Lost In Darkness
by RosalindHawkins
Summary: A story of survival and the saving power of love. Fragileshipping, Puzzleshipping, Tendershipping, Thiefshipping, Puffshipping, Puppyshipping, Euroshipping, Teaseshipping. Post-canon. Rated T for language, abuse, implied non-con, and smut. Please review! (Seto Kaiba x Ryou Bakura x Joey/Jounouchi) (Ryou x Yami) (Ryou x Bakura) (Yami x Yugi) (Marik x Bakura) (Ryou x Seto)
1. Dark Hole

Yami and Ryou lay in bed together as golden, late-afternoon sunlight filtered into the dim hotel room around the edges of the closed curtains. Their most intimate activities were at an end for the moment, but the the latter was reluctant to leave this warm haven of love and safety. They shared one last full kiss before laying back against the pillows to rest.

"I wish you were my yami," Ryou whispered as he listened to his lover's heart beating in his bare chest. Yami sighed sadly, tousling Ryou's hair and kissing his forehead tenderly, but saying nothing. He loved Yugi too much to be asked to choose between his hikari and this hikari. He would always love Yugi the most, given the special bond they shared, but there was a piece of his heart that had been stolen by the young owner of the Millennium ring. "Do I really have to go back to him?" the British boy all but whimpered, cuddling up against his best friend as he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could simply open them again and find that all of his own yami's abuse was just a bad dream.

Yami was slow to break the peace that he'd managed to restore to Ryou in their time together, but he knew that it must be done. "Yes, you know you must go. It'll be worse if you wait," he reminded him in low, gentle tones, stroking his smooth, fair back in a comforting manner. Ryou shuddered all the same. The last time that he had dawdled with Yami and come home after dark, Ryou'd received the worst beating from Bakura to date. At least, he thought it still counted as a beating when it included being thrown down a flight of stairs.

Yami nuzzled the top of Ryou's head, then pressed soft, brief kisses across his closed eyelids. "Will you please open your eyes for me, my precious Ryou?" he pleaded. Ryou hesitated, reluctant to return to his painful life at home, but Yami's dusting of kisses across his cheeks, jawline, and forehead encouraged him to comply. When he'd done so, Yami rewarded him with a warm smile that eased some of his anxieties, rubbing his nose against Ryou's. "Come on, let me help you get dressed." They climbed out of bed slowly, Yami helping the sore Ryou to his feet.

The brown-eyed boy still ached all over from the beating he'd received from Bakura two days ago, which had limited their activities this afternoon, though they were still mutually pleasurable. Moving in ways that everyday activities required him to do was a painful thing for Ryou at the moment, and Yami couldn't help but wince a little at the sight of the livid bruises on his body. He pitied the boy more than anything else, even more than he loved him.

When they were both back to their respectable selves, Yami guided Ryou all the way to the sidewalk outside the hotel before giving him one last embrace. They'd agreed to meet again in two weeks time. Ryou had opted for that duration because his yami had been irritable lately, and he didn't want to make things worse. After all, when Bakura wasn't happy, he was always certain to make Ryou at least equally miserable.

The lovers parted ways with heavy hearts. They always parted with their burdens before entering the hotel for the next installment of their affair, but their burdens were always waiting to be resumed when they left.

* * *

Yami was worried about Ryou and the abuse he suffered at Bakura's hands. The hikari was consistently not getting the medical help that he needed after Bakura's various brutalities. Yami was disgusted by Bakura's behavior, punishing and playing with his hikari so violently. Sometimes he hurt him just because he was bored or felt the need to reassert his power and dominance. Yami knew that Ryou wouldn't tell him everything that transpired between the two; some things were too upsetting, too painful, too shameful to speak of unless absolutely necessary.

Yami was worried about Ryou, but when he walked through the door of the apartment he shared with Yugi, he could leave all of those worries behind. He didn't even greet Yugi verbally, simply grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him sweetly, earnestly. Yugi's arms wrapped around to the pharaoh's back, pulling him close as his boyfriend plundered his mouth like a grave robber.

When they finally broke apart, Yugi's cheeks were flushed as he lightly panted for air. "Happy to see you too," he teased good-naturedly. Yami just smiled and nibbled gently on Yugi's ear. This needy behavior wasn't out of the ordinary for him after visiting Ryou, actually. These days, Ryou's was usually hurt badly enough that Yami still had much yet to be gotten out of his system even after returning from his lover. While Yugi appreciated this fact, he also felt a twinge of guilt for benefiting from his friend's pain.

Yugi had, with Yami's help of course, come to terms with the situation as it stood. Yes, Yugi had felt a bit of jealousy, a bit of bitterness, a bit of anger, but he'd worked through all those and everything else. Yami had explained to him very… persuasively, that if forced to choose between Ryou and Yugi, Yami would pick Yugi without a moment's hesitation. And if even after all that Yugi had harbored doubts, they wouldn't have lasted much longer if he'd taken the time to notice some of the little things, like how Yami's face lit up upon seeing Yugi after every period of time they spend apart, whether it was half an hour or half a day or half a month, Yugi's presence was always a fresh light and joy to Yami's soul.

"How was Ryou today?" he finally inquired in soft, concerned tones.

"Bruised pretty badly," Yami sighed in response, hugging his own hikari close as he recalled the wounds. "He's still having trouble getting along with his yami. Oh, how I wish Bakura loved Ryou and treated him right, then we wouldn't need any of these complicated arrangements to make him feel like he's worthy of love. But that's never going to happen, and Ryou's caught in the middle between people he doesn't wish to impose on and people he wishes to escape." Yugi and Yami both feared for Ryou's psychological wellbeing too. Although he wouldn't give Yami any details, the pharaoh could imagine the sorts of deprecating, damaging, depressing things that Bakura told Ryou on a daily basis.

Ryou was at risk of losing himself entirely to the malignant will of his aggressive yami, but there was only so much that anybody could do to help Ryou without incidentally making things worse. All they could do was hope for a change of heart.

* * *

Ryou cowered on the floor, arms wrapped around his head as he weathered Bakura's stormy temper this evening. Apparently Ryou had forgotten to do some of the things on the list that he'd been given that morning, which had angered an already-irked Bakura and sent him into a rage. He'd yelled some generically angry things and gotten upset, then reached for his hikari with a look of violence. Ryou was used to being a human punching-bag by now, so he knew how to keep his mouth shut and be prepared to endure beatings of an indefinite length.

"You worthless piece of trash!" Bakura was howling. "Where do you get off thinking that you can neglect your duties and then go sneaking around and sleeping with my mortal enemy? Huh?" Kick. "You think that pharaoh loves you?" Kick. "He'd rather trade you in for a new TV!" Punches began raining down on him. "He'd rather have you as his slave than as his friend!" Bakura heaved Ryou up by seizing the front of his shirt in strong, tight fists. "Not even your own father wanted you!" Bakura gave Ryou a hard shake to emphasize his point. "He ditched you in a rotten part of town, hoping you'd get yourself kidnapped so that he'd never have to worry about you again. Face it, Ryou, you're nothing, and nobody's ever cared about you!" He fiercely threw Ryou to the floor once more, his lighter side crying out meekly in pain.

He turned his back on him and began to light a new cigarette. "I forbid you from having anymore contact with Yami from now on," he growled around the end of his cigarette, grinning in enjoyment of Ryou's desperate whimpers and sobs.

"Please, Bakura, I-" Ryou began. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to fight this decree.

"Shut up, you idiot!" the thief shouted as he turned around, his eyes blazing with fury. "He doesn't love you, and he never did! He'll be glad that you're out of his life." He took a long drag from his cigarette, kneeling down to blow the smoke into Ryou's face, making him cough. "It's time you faced facts and stopped living in a fantasy."

"That's… not true…" Ryou choked out, earning him a death glare and a slap in the face. A single tear slid from one eye and dripped to the floor as Ryou felt himself lose control of his life all over again.

"If you believe that, then you're a fool," he scoffed. "When was the last time he told you he loved you?"

Ryou opened his mouth and shut it again, unable to say that it had indeed been a couple of months since Yami had last spoken those words. Ryou hadn't thought much about it before, how he'd express the sentiment and Yami wouldn't quite reciprocate. He knew that it was a bit difficult for Yami because of the love he had for both hikaris, and he'd understood that. He hadn't pressed Yami about it, hadn't let it get to him before. Now, he had to wonder.

Bakura chuckled mirthlessly. "I bet he won't even put up a fight when I tell him that you two won't be seeing each other anymore." He grinned at that, and pulled Ryou's phone out of the pocket of his jeans, standing up as he dialed Yami's number.

"You're wrong," Ryou protested, only to cry out in pain as Bakura placed a well-aimed kick at Ryou's stomach.

"Shut up," Bakura snapped, putting the call on speaker-phone as they waited for Yami to pick up. Ryou's heart pounded in his chest. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't possibly be happening, yet it was.

"Hello?" Yami's rich, deep voice rumbled from the other end of the line. He sounded cautious; he knew from experience that just because a call was coming from Ryou's cell-phone, it didn't necessarily mean that Ryou was the one calling him.

"Listen up, pharaoh," Bakura growled fiercely into the phone as Ryou wished that he was anywhere but here. "You're little affair with yadonushi is over. You won't be seeing him again. Unless, of course, you'd be willing to make a deal." Ryou's stomach clenched painfully and his mouth went dry. He should have seen this coming, given how well he knew Bakura's evil ways, but it still caught him by surprise.

"What deal did you have in mind?" Yami replied after a few moments, his tone low and aggressive. He knew the odds were slim that any deal the Thief King offered would be agreeable to him, but the least he could do was hear him out.

"Well, since you'll be borrowing my hikari, don't you think it only fitting that I get to borrow yours? In fact, let's make it a more permanent arrangement: You get Ryou and I get Yugi. It's a fair trade, wouldn't you agree? Don't worry, Yugi and I will have plenty of fun together, just like you and yadonushi." He chuckled, then added, "Well, maybe not _just_ like you two, but close enough." His tone was deceptively smooth, almost sugary. It was like the sweet taste of poison, the smooth surface of a knife's flat edge.

Ryou could tell that Bakura was enjoying every moment of this. He enjoyed watching Ryou squirm with discomfort as he listened to the conversation against his will. He enjoyed the process of toying with the pharaoh's feelings as much as he enjoyed ripping Ryou's heart to shreds. He took another long drag from his cigarette as the pharaoh responded to the thief's proposal with immediate vehemence.

"I'll be damned before I let you lay a finger on aibou!" Yami was outraged, and didn't bother trying not to yell. Bakura grinned sadistically as he listened and watched Ryou's reaction. "If you honestly thought that I would agree to that, then you truly are out of your mind. If you ever dare to threaten Yugi like that again, so help me gods, I will murder you. Understand?"

Yami Bakura let out a low chuckle of delight. "Come now, pharaoh, there's no need to shout," he crooned. "You've gone and upset yadonushi with your shouting; happy now?" As he struggled to maintain his silence, Ryou was biting his lip so hard that it had started to bleed. Bakura kicked him again, ripping a pained sound from Ryou's throat, the cry sank into a low groan as he rolled over to hide his face in the floor, feeling ashamed and broken.

All they could hear on the other end was silence, then a quiet sigh. "Well, since you won't agree to the deal, then I guess you're little whore's out of commission for good," Bakura continued, satisfied with how all of this had turned out. "Do you have any last words for yadonushi?"

A sad pause, then the tender words: "Take care of yourself, Ryou." Bakura ended the call a moment after that, tossing the phone aside as he cackled triumphantly.

"No 'I love you,' no 'I'll miss you,' just a 'take care of yourself.'" His laughter was growing hysterical, and Ryou cringed to hear it. That kind of laughter was never a good sign. "I can't believe you even thought for one second that he felt anything more for you than pity and a bit of lust! You're so gullible it's pathetic. I bet even _I_ could make you believe that I loved you!" He was laughing so hard that his eyes watered, but soon the laughter finally came to an end. He puffed on his cigarette, glaring down at the trembling, huddled form of his hikari. "It was for your own good," he commented patronizingly. "Not even _you_ would like to go on living a lie, believing a lie, for the rest of your life."

Ryou was heartbroken, and Bakura's constant jabs kept making things worse. He'd believed that Yami had truly, deeply cared for him, that he'd loved him as much, or at least almost as much, as he loved his own hikari. Yes, their relationship was qualitatively different; he'd always understood that. He'd just never realized that it was quantitatively different as well, that he was loved so much less by the pharaoh than Yugi was. He had been believing a lie, and much of it was his own fault. It was his own fault for loving the pharaoh in the first place, for that had made him see things the way he'd wanted to see them, rather than the way things really were.

The fact that Yami had let him believe the lies made it even worse. He felt betrayed, used, worthless. The emotional pain was worse than anything Bakura had ever done to his body. His torture methods were becoming more sophisticated, more complex, more effective at putting his hikari through hell. The abuse had started as purely verbal, then it'd become physical. Now it was emotional abuse as well, and Ryou didn't like where this progression was going, but he knew that it would go there, because Bakura was a sadist to the core. In addition to that, he was also someone who loved seeing a plan come to fruition.

Ryou was pulled from his thoughts when Bakura seized him by the hair and pulled him up to his feet. He coughed as the cigarette smoke was blown into his tear-stained face. Bakura's expression was fierce again, and Ryou could tell that tonight's violence was far from over. "Don't you get it, you little bitch? Nobody wants you around. Nobody cares enough about what happens to you to do something about it. Everybody knows that helping you would be a waste of their time. You should be grateful that I'm willing to put up with you, that I let you live here with me. Now stop your bloody crying and start cooking dinner."

Bakura dropped Ryou, who crumpled to the floor like a rag-doll. He strode away as he continued to smoke, looking back after a few moments at the discarded victim who hadn't moved a single inch. His patience finally ran out. He marched back over to the hikari and seized him by the hair once more. He extinguished his cigarette on Ryou's upper arm, making the boy scream at the unexpected pain.

"I'll give you something to scream about," he snarled, his face inches from Ryou's. He turned and dragged the brown-eyed boy to his bedroom, tossing his cigarette butt to the floor carelessly. Ryou started to panic, but Bakura took no heed of it as he tossed him carelessly onto the bed. Ryou was utterly terrified; this hadn't happened before, this was new. Before he had the chance to crawl away from him, Bakura seized his wrists in a vise grip and pinned his hands above his head, making him squirm with discomfort at the feeling of such vulnerability. Then he leaned forward, glaring at the swollen face and the tearful eyes that he so despised. With his free hand, he grasped Ryou's chin and forced his mouth open, leaning in to kiss his hikari with all the aggressive hunger he used when he ate a steak.

Ryou's very insides trembled with fear as he tasted the ashy nicotine flavor of Bakura's mouth. All of that couldn't possibly be from one cigarette. How many of them had he smoked today? He distracted himself with thoughts of anything else, anything at all, as he tried not to focus on what was happening. He'd found that simply not paying attention could help make his yami's abuse more bearable. He'd also learned the hard way not to zone out when Bakura was talking to him.

Bakura soon became bored of Ryou's passive acceptance of it all, and was soon engaged in hurting him even more. Anything to get a reaction from him. He bit his victim's tongue, his lips. He lifted a knee and pressed it to the other's crotch, making him arch and squirm and moan with a strange, strangled desperation. Bakura released his wrists and seized the hem of Ryou's shirt, removing it roughly and straightening up as he stared down at his terrified prey.

He noticed a hickey on his neck that his long hair had been hiding up until now. He traced it delicately with his long fingers right before he attacked it with his teeth. Ryou tried to push Bakura off of him, and his torturer allowed him to do so for a few moments before restraining his hands again, gripping his wrists with enough force to induce bruising. Ryou was crying again, his heart tearing as he remembered Yami's tender touches in giving Ryou that mark. The memory was now marred by Yami Bakura's abuse, just like the mark itself was now altered by his teeth. Soon, Bakura's teeth were gnawing at his collarbone, predatory growls emitting from his throat.

Ryou had been fighting against Bakura's restraint this whole time, trying to wrestle his arms free, trying to squirm out from underneath the other man's body, but all to no avail. His efforts to free himself weakened. What good was fighting when he knew it wouldn't work? He whimpered and gasped as Bakura's knee pressed into his groin with increased pressure.

"That's right, you fucking love this, you little whore," Bakura muttered, his voice raspier and harsher than usual. "Stop fighting it when you know you want this." The shame and sorrow that flooded Ryou's spirit as he let himself go limp were indescribably potent. He hated Bakura, hated that he had his hikari so well under his thumb that could manipulate him so perfectly.

Bakura smirked as he let go of Ryou's hands and shifted his knee slightly, reaching for the front of his victim's pants. When Ryou felt a slight tug at the waistband, a cry flew from his lips before he could even think: "Please, no!" Bakura froze, his eyes narrowing. Ryou felt his throat close over in dead terror. He hadn't meant to say no, hadn't meant to deny him. He knew how much Bakura hated it when Ryou said no.

"What did you just say to me?" came the deadly whisper. His quiet anger was always more fearful than his shouting.

"I-I didn't mean to…" Ryou whimpered, panting as panic set in. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" His attempts to placate the sadist were all in vain. Bakura held Ryou's gaze with his steely eyes as he slowly removed his own belt, gripping it in a way that made Ryou feel nauseous. This hadn't happened before, and his ignorance of what was about to happen unnerved and upset Ryou all the more.

"I'll make you wish you were never born, you pathetic excuse for a host!" He raised his belt over his head and Ryou covered his face with his arms, squeezing his eyes shut.

* * *

Yami's cell rang while he was helping Yugi make dinner. He put the knife down on the cutting board and wiped his hands with a towel before pulling it out of his pocket. Ryou was calling. That was unusual. Yugi glanced over at him curiously, but only saw Yami's back as he walked out of the kitchen into their bedroom, closing the door most of the way behind him.

"Hello?" he answered, not entirely sure who was on the other end.

"Listen up, pharaoh," Bakura answered, and Yami groaned inwardly. This could only mean trouble. "You're little affair with yadonushi is over. You won't be seeing him again. Unless, of course," he continued in sly tones, "You'd be willing to make a deal."

If Yami had to stop seeing Ryou, then the hikari would be the one to suffer the most. Without anybody to remind him that he was valued and cared for, without anybody to offer him gentleness, kindness, and compassion, he'd surely lose his mind and soul to the total and utter despair that he'd been fighting for so long. Yami had been helping him to fight it. Knowing that he'd never be able to free him from Bakura, he attempted to teach him things that would help him to survive on his own when the day came that Yami couldn't help him anymore. Well, this was that day, and the pharaoh didn't believe that Ryou was ready to stand on his own just yet. He still needed Yami, and he refused to give up on his friend easily.

"What deal did you have in mind?" His voice betrayed the protective anger he felt for the angelic boy he'd welcomed into his heart and bed.

"Well, since you'll be borrowing my hikari, don't you think it only fitting that I get to borrow yours?" Yami felt the color drain from his face and his jaw went slack in shock. "In fact, let's make it a more permanent arrangement: You get Ryou and I get Yugi. It's a fair trade, wouldn't you agree? Don't worry, Yugi and I will have plenty of fun together, just like you and yadonushi." He chuckled darkly, then added, "Well, maybe not just like you two, but close enough."

Yami's face was livid as he yelled, "I'll be damned before I let you lay a finger on aibou!" Yugi heard him from the kitchen, immediately becoming concerned. He padded over to their bedroom door, watching Yami's face through the crack. "If you honestly thought that I would agree to that, then you truly are out of your mind. If you ever dare to threaten Yugi like that again, so help me gods, I will murder you. Understand?" Yugi himself was becoming nervous. Who was he talking to? What was going on? What had the other person said to make the pharaoh, who was usually so calm and collected, so very angry?

The bastard laughed. How could he have the audacity to laugh? "Come now, pharaoh, there's no need to shout," he crooned. "You've gone and upset yadonushi with your shouting; happy now?" Yami flinched as he heard Ryou's pained outcry, the anger leaving him as Bakura's words sank in. Ryou had heard all that Yami had said. He'd probably just made his friend feel horrible about himself, and he was already so vulnerable. And Bakura was hurting the boy even now. He must have had the damn cell on speaker-phone. Yami should have known better, he should have known that it was a trap. He sighed sadly, frustrated with himself more than anything else.

"Well, since you won't agree to the deal, then I guess you're little whore's out of commission for good," Bakura continued, his smug tones betraying how satisfied he was with the results of his craftiness. "Do you have any last words for yadonushi?"

"Take care of yourself, Ryou," he said softly. What else could he say? If Ryou didn't take care of himself, then nobody would take care of him, and Yami hated to think about what would happen if Ryou ceased taking care of himself, ceased caring for himself at all. It was his way of telling the bruised, battered hikari, without being overt and eliciting mockery and contempt from Bakura, to not give up, to stay strong, to hold out hope for something better. Bakura ended the call, and Yami hung up as well, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Yugi pushed open the door and entered the room, making Yami glance up as he entered. The pharaoh looked conflicted, pained, crushed, upset. His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes, his body stiff with tension as his heart began to ache. Yugi had never seen him like this before. He cautiously approached his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him in a gentle hug, only to have Yami crush him in his arms a few moments later, burying his face in Yugi's shoulder.

"What happened?" the hikari finally asked worriedly.

"It's over," came the whispered response. "I did all that I could to help him. I tried so hard to make things better for him. In the end, I just made things worse. I couldn't do anything to help him." He spoke slowly and with difficulty, and as Yugi held him more tightly, he felt the pharaoh shudder and begin to sob. "Bakura said that Ryou and I aren't allowed to see each other anymore. He did offer a deal, but I could never accept it."

"What was the deal?" Yugi asked hesitantly, not sure he really wanted to know the answer.

"He said that I could have Ryou permanently if I gave him you. I can't even bear he thought of him getting his hands on you!" Yami shuddered and squeezed Yugi in his arms as if he planned on never letting go. "I feel terrible that Ryou's stuck with him forever now, but I couldn't trade you away even if it was for the whole world… I could never let him hurt you…" Guilty sobs racked Yami's body as Yugi held him close, trying to comfort him. Yugi's heart felt warm, even as concern for Ryou started nagging away at his own mind. He knew from details Yami had relayed to him previously that Ryou was virtually a prisoner in his own home and that Bakura dictated his life with an iron fist.

Yugi's eyes watered a little, but he blinked them away. He couldn't fall apart now; Yami needed him right now. He gently released Yami and pulled out his handkerchief to dry Yami's tears. Yugi smiled sweetly, saying, "Thank you, Yami. I love you too." He leaned in and gave him a brief kiss. "We'll find a way to help Ryou, I promise. We can't just leave him there if he's in trouble, because he's our friend, and friends don't give up on each other." Yami smiled at Yugi gratefully, and the two shared another tender kiss. And another. And another.

A little while later, Yugi was pulling his pants back on while Yami watched him appreciatively from the bed. "Come on, aibou, we could just order pizza instead," the pharaoh proposed, not wanting to bother with cooking tonight.

Yugi glanced back at him with a smile. "Pizza's not very healthy, Yami," Yugi chided teasingly.

"We can cheat this once, can't we?" Yami pleaded with a perfect pout face. Yugi knew what expression he was wearing before he even turned to look, but he looked anyways. He was never able to say no to that face. He sighed and ran his fingers through Yami's hair. "Alright, I'll go order some pizza for us," he conceded with a playful wink. "You'd better make it worth my while."

Yami watched as Yugi, still shirtless, left their room to find his phone and order the pizza, then he sighed and stared at the ceiling. He would find a way to get Ryou to safety, to a place where he could heal, love, and be loved. He swore to himself that he wouldn't give up until he'd done so.


	2. Graceful Charity

Tears rolled down Ryou's cheeks as he sat in the quiet darkness of the closet, stuffed deep into the corner for the fifth time in the last four weeks. Marik and Bakura were going at it like animals while Ryou's naked body stung with welts from the seventh belting he'd received from his yami. His wrists were duct-taped together to keep him from getting dressed while he waited for his yami to decide his punishment had reached an end, and his mouth was gagged to keep him from crying for help. He shivered, and pulled his legs up closer to his chest. He wished that he could cover his ears to keep out the sounds the other two were making almost as much as he wished he could have been allowed the dignity of wearing clothes while he awaited freedom.

There was a faint amount of light in the closet trickling in from the cracks between the closet doors and the door-frame, enough for Ryou to stare at the angry red cuts covering the insides of his wrists. He shuddered as he contemplated them. The last time that he'd seen Yami was the first time Bakura had used the belt on him and the first time that he'd been raped. Ryou had retreated to the bathroom to clean himself up afterward, and ended up on the floor sobbing in pain and shame. When Bakura had stepped into the bathroom and found Ryou, he'd paused for a moment before crouching down and sitting beside him, making Ryou hold his breath in fear.

" _It hurts, doesn't it?" The cold, smooth voice cut through the silence with an odd, almost kind tone. No, it wasn't kindness, but something imitating it… Ryou couldn't place his finger on it. He just nodded in quiet assent. "I can help with that." He took Ryou's left hand in his and slipped something into Ryou's right hand. A pocket-knife. He lay his hand over Ryou's own, which gripped the knife's handle shakily. He guided it to Ryou's wrist, which was held steady so that he couldn't pull away. "When the shame and depression get to be too much to handle," the silky, venomed voice continued as he lowered the knife to Ryou's skin, "Do this." Ryou watched in detached horror as the blade slid across his skin, leaving behind a stripe of bright red. Bakura repeated the action again and again, Ryou whimpering in pain as the blood began to flow down his arm and the ache in his chest seemed to ease. After a half dozen cuts, Ryou was shaking beyond control, ready for this nightmare to be over. Bakura stopped, then, carefully lifting the steel to his lips and licking Ryou's blood from the cool metal. Ryou closed his eyes, unable to watch. Once the knife was clean, Bakura ran his tongue over Ryou's arm, greedily lapping up each rivulet of lifeblood spilled onto his hikari's skin. Ryou choked back a sob, squeezing his eyes tightly closed until it was all over. Bakura slipped the knife from Ryou's fingers; he knew better than to leave it in his host's possession. Without another word, Bakura stood and left, leaving Ryou on his own again._

Bakura had come and done the same thing to Ryou after the second time. The third time was the first time he'd bound the boy and stuffed him in the closet, but when he did finally let Ryou out, he would sit him down with the knife and repeat the experience, the cuts climbing further up his arms, more blood flowing each time. At the end of their last cutting session, he'd been rather light-headed and unable to stand for several minutes. He anticipated it being even worse this time around. He also didn't expect to be let out until morning. As he tried to scoot himself more comfortably against the wall into a position that would be at least somewhat conducive to sleep. He winced in pain as the movement aggravated the injuries his yami had dealt him. Bakura only belted and bound him when he verbally resisted his forceful advances; the belting had happened seven times, the binding five. But Ryou had been raped more times than that. How many was it now? Twenty, twenty-three times? It made his arse ache even more than it already did just to think of it.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he struggled to find the peace of mind to sleep. He managed to doze off into a light sleep, but was awakened by his yami roughly grabbing him and hauling him to his feet. Ryou stumbled, half-conscious, out of the closet and through the bedroom, noting Marik asleep in bed in his periphery. Bakura guided him to the bathroom, not even bothering to flick on the light. He shoved Ryou to his knees, following suit in front of him as he picked up the pocket knife from the bathroom sink. He cut the duct tape binding the boy's wrists and peeled it away, undisturbed by the pained cries the action elicited. He slipped the knife into Ryou's hand, closing his reluctant fingers around the handle, then proceeded with their ritual.

Ryou's stomach churned as the blood began to flow down his arm. It was even more than last time. When it started to drip onto the floor, Bakura paused in his slashing to slide his tongue across Ryou's skin, drinking up as much of the blood he could get. He didn't like wasting it by letting it fall to the floor. As he licked the knife clean, a wave of dizziness swept over the victim. "Ba-Bakura," Ryou whimpered, swaying. Strong, cruel arms encircled him, keeping him upright even as he shushed the fellow teen's cries.

"I'm not done yet," he growled into his ear before nibbling it playfully. His hikari's stomach became even more unsettled as he pulled back and lowered the knife to his skin again. Even in the semi-darkness, he could see the glint of the metal as it reflected back whatever light hit it. Ryou cried out as Bakura delivered one last deep cut to the wounded arm. His ears were greeted with the gentle hushing sound that sent chills of dread down his spine, quickly followed by the feeling of Bakura's tongue on his skin, lips pressed to the wound as he sucked the flow of blood directly into his mouth, gulping it greedily as if his very life depended on it.

Reality was quickly slipping away from the white-haired teen's grasp, but he did manage to gasp out one word: "Vampire." The last thing he heard before he blacked out was the cruel laughter of his yami.

* * *

The abused hikari was home alone, scrubbing the bathroom floor as Bakura had ordered. He'd woken up on the bathroom floor in drying puddle of his own blood.

 _He felt nauseous as he looked down at himself, noting with burning cheeks and a heavy heart what Bakura had done to him while he was unconscious. He stood slowly, stretching his aching limbs before he pulled on his bathrobe and turned on the shower. Once he was cleaned up and dried off, he pulled on his bathrobe and slunk to his own bedroom—a place that was hardly touched these days. As he was putting on clothes, Bakura burst into the room, a newly-lit cigarette between his fingers. He had a habit of doing that, bursting in when Ryou was dressing; Ryou believed that it was just because the more he degraded his victim and made him feel vulnerable, the more power he held over him, and Yami Bakura was all about exercising total domination over the people he came into contact with. Sometimes Ryou wondered if he didn't in fact believe himself to be a god. There was a name for that, wasn't there?_ _ **Homicidal maniac with delusions of grandeur**_ _. The phrase popped into Ryou's head, though he couldn't think of where he'd heard it before._

 _He finished pulling on his sweatpants as he turned to face Bakura, standing upright with clenched fists at his side. The criminal just smirked at him, enjoying his hikari's daily bout of spirit. Every morning he was like this: straight-backed, calm, confident, defiant almost. That flash of resentment in his eye that spoke of the strength he'd once had, strength of mind, body, and spirit. Every day he started out that way, and every day Bakura broke him down to a puddle of pain and torture. He rather enjoyed the process, liking that each day was a fresh challenge to break his spirit all over again. Bakura took a deep drag from the cigarette, flicking the ashes onto the floor carelessly, before giving Ryou his orders for the day: that he was to scrub the bathroom until it sparkled, do the same with the kitchen, then cook steak for Bakura's dinner. He was also under strict orders that he was not to eat that day, but Ryou had expected as much. His captor only allowed him to eat very little every other day. It was just enough to keep him going, but not enough to keep Ryou's weight from plummeting, his muscles from deteriorating, or his ribs from showing. The teen was emaciated as well as injured, just another fact that made him feel thoroughly ashamed of himself and what he'd become._

When he heard a knock on the door, he froze, startled and unnerved at the sound. Nobody ever knocked on their door because they never had visitors. Marik was the only other person to ever come over, and he just let himself in with the key Bakura had given him. He had no need to knock. Ryou knelt on the floor, praying that whoever it was would go away. The sound came again after minute, then again after two more, as if the visitor knew with certainty that the inhabitant was home. After the third knock, though, they finally gave up and left, which made Ryou let out a sigh of relief. He couldn't remember when he'd become so wretchedly afraid of strangers and people in general, and that startled him. He didn't used to be this way. He hadn't always been like this. Sad thoughts of the relatively pleasant past swirled through his mind as he resumed his cleaning.

He'd been able to see his friends, back then. That was before the Spirit of the Millennium Ring had been given his own body, and Ryou'd had to fear that he would overtake his body and do something wretched to his friends. He'd spent every Christmas alone, mourning his mother and sister as he waited for the phone call from his estranged father that would never come. He'd suspected for years that his father had remarried and started a new life with a new family, content to abandon his son in Domino so long as he paid the rent until he was 18. At least Christmas had been something that mattered back then. Now, it meant nothing to him. He wanted nothing more than to go back to when missing his family and feeling lonely were the greatest of his concerns. Now, he wasn't sure how much longer he could suffer this torture before he decided to end his own life.

He'd contemplated it with no serious intent on several occasions. Then he'd begun his affair with Yami, and things had gotten better. He had something to look forward to, something to live for. It was hard to think of ending your life when you loved someone who loved you back. Or at least, that's what he'd thought. The events of that fateful day almost a month ago twisted into Ryou's heart like a poisoned thorn, constantly causing infectious pain and doubt so long as it remained, and it would remain until he spoke with Yami again and got the truth from him, which would most likely never happen, not if Bakura got his way.

Now, though, he'd been seriously contemplating it for at least the last week. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could survive. Between the beatings, the cuttings, the rapings, the starvation, the isolation, the lashings, the emotional and psychological abuse, the forced servitude, and everything else, he didn't see how he was going to survive. Bakura had even tried getting Ryou hooked onto his own addictions: smoking and drinking. Ryou had taken one drag from the offered cig and coughed so hard that his eyes watered, refusing to try it again. He hadn't dared to touch the vodka Bakura's offered him that same day. He knew that strong alcohol could make you sick and that alcohol tended to turn people into monsters. He'd experienced first-hand what it made Bakura do, and he certainly could never live with himself if he let himself become like the very person he hated the most.

* * *

Yugi carefully slid the thin envelope underneath the door to Ryou's apartment, then straightened up and knocked on the door for the third time before walking away, exiting and retreating from the unfamiliar apartment building. He and Yami had been working to devise a plan to save Ryou, and this was the first step of it being put into motion. They _would_ rescue their dear friend from the prison of pain he was trapped in. As he walked towards the grocery store, he contemplated their master plan.

First, Yugi was to visit Ryou at a time when Bakura wasn't around and help him to pack anything that he wanted to take with him, then discreetly escort him to the apartment Yami and Yugi shared, where Yugi would feed his friend and tend to any bad injuries, assuming that Bakura was now as abusive as ever and that the boy was indeed hurt.

But Ryou, though Yugi knew he was home, seemed determined not to answer the door. Perhaps he'd been forbidden from doing so? Yugi wasn't sure what to do. If he didn't answer today, he wouldn't answer any other day. Maybe if he slipped him a note, he'd come on his own. He pulled out a slip of paper and a pen, about to write out a note, when he paused. If Ryou was as weak as he and Yami suspected, would Ryou even be able to make it on foot to their apartment? He took a twenty out of his wallet and the envelope he used for holding receipts. He emptied the envelope and wrote a brief note before slipping the bill and the piece of paper into the envelope and writing Ryou's name on the back of it and slipping it under the door. He knocked good and hard one last time before walking away, praying that Ryou would be at their apartment by the end of the evening.

* * *

Ryou stared down at the crisp $20 bill that slid out of the envelope. He noticed a slip of paper sticking out from its folds, and read the note: "We want to help you escape. Leave the apartment when you can, take a taxi, we'll be waiting for you." An address followed, the entire note in Yami's neat, angular script. Ryou's eyes watered and he pressed the note to his lips, closing his eyes for a brief moment. They cared. They were helping him flee his abusive Yami. He couldn't possibly go to the offered refuge, though. That would be one of the first places Bakura would look, and he didn't want them to get into any more trouble with the violent criminal on account of him.

Now that he had the resources to leave, he needed to leave as soon as possible. He began to make hasty preparations immediately, throwing some clothes and nonperishable food items into a backpack, grabbing one of the thief's pocket-knives, and adding a few extra band-aids to his provisions, knowing that he's need them. He rummaged through the couch cushions for as much spare change as he could find. Bakura still had his cell phone, and he figured it'd be good to be able to call someone in case of emergency. He stuffed the coins into his pocket and the bill into the bottom of his sock before putting it back on. He couldn't afford to lose it or let it get stolen. Thus prepared, he ventured out of the apartment for the first time in two weeks. He didn't know where he was going, which scared him a little, but he'd find somewhere safe. He'd make it work. He turned towards the sketchiest part of town. It was the last place he wanted to go, but Bakura was well aware of that fact. He knew that Ryou was sick and tired of the sleezy low-lifes and criminals, so it made sense that he would get as far away from that section of town as possible. That made it the best place to hide.

* * *

Joey trudged home through the rain after working the closing shift. He was exhausted, but he was in a cheerful mood all the same. It was a relief to know that his father wouldn't be at the apartment when he got home. His alcoholic, drug-addicted father had unsurprisingly gone missing a week and a half ago. Joey couldn't bring himself to mourn the man who'd abused and neglected him since he was a child. Now that his father was no longer stealing his money for booze and pot, he was close to catching up on their late rent. Joey was finally eating three full meals a day, his ribs no longer as prominently visible as they had been for years. Things were finally looking up for the stubbornly optimistic teen.

He was tired, but for once he was happy to be going home, even though his home was a small, dingy apartment in the scummiest part of town. He stumbled upon a fight blocking his usual route, so he slipped into a side alley and took a detour. He pulled his collar up against the driving rain, then stumbled to a halt as as he saw something that shocked him. Ryou Bakura was laying unconscious on the ground at the base of a brick wall—one that happened to be covered in graffiti. Joey quickly ran over to him, glancing into the shadows to make sure that they were alone. He knelt beside his former classmate in the puddles and rolled him onto his back as he grabbed his wrist to check his pulse. He was alive, but the skin of his wrist didn't feel right. He'd have to check it in better lighting.

"Bakura, can you hear me?" His eyelids fluttered, but there was no real reaction from him. "Bakura? Bakura, wake up!" With a pained groan, the white-haired teen's eyes finally opened. He looked pained and confused, but relief eased his features as he recognized Joey.

"Bakura, are you alright? Can you stand?" Joey glanced to either side again, aware that they were in a very dangerous place and that both of them were in a vulnerable position.

"I think so," Bakura answered hesitantly. Joey helped his friend to his feet, but he couldn't stand on his own. Though he was awake and conscious, he was only only half-aware and half-coordinated. Joey was just glad that they weren't too far from the apartment building.

"Come on, pal, we don't have far to go," he said encouragingly as he began to lead his friend to the only place he'd ever called home.

* * *

Bakura was still really out of it when he collapsed onto Joey's couch. He was soaked to the skin and shivering like a wet kitten, his hands cradling his head as if it ached unbearably. Joey knew that he needed to get Ryou cleaned up and dried off. He disappeared into his room briefly to get a clean set of clothes, then he brought them out to the living room.

"Bakura—"

"Call me Ryou," he interrupted faintly.

"Uh, okay, Ryou, I have some clothes you can borrow. Do you need help changing?" Ryou immediately shook his head, and even though Joey doubted that to be true, he respected him enough not to push the issue. Joey went into the small kitchen and began to rummage around for food while Ryou shuffled off to the bathroom to change. Joey puzzled over the contents of the pantry and the fridge, trying to think of something he could cook for the two of them, when he heard a loud thud and a sound of pain from the direction of the bathroom.

"Ryou, you alright in there?" Joey called, and when there was no answer, he moved out of the kitchen and knocked on the bathroom door, only to be answered by another low groan of pain.

Joey hadn't been prepared for what he would find. Ryou had somewhat dried his rain-soaked hair and removed his shirt before he'd fallen, which meant that Joey now saw not only how skinny Ryou had gotten, but also a decent amount of the damage Bakura had done.

Ryou lay on the floor, curled up on his side as he clutched his head again. Joey approached him, kneeling beside him with caution. "Hey bud, are you okay? What's wrong with your head?" Ryou's eyes slowly opened to peer up at Joey, his grimace of pain now making much more sense to his rescuer. It hit Ryou in that moment that most of his wounds—things he always fought so hard to hide—were on full display. His cheeks burned with shame as he struggled into a sitting position.

"My head… hit the wall when they stole my backpack…" He spoke with difficulty, slowly and carefully. "It aches a lot, but when I was changing… everything started to blur… and I lost my balance…"

Joey recognized Ryou's experience as vertigo; he'd experienced that himself when he had the flu a few years ago. "You probably have a concussion. We should get you to a doctor—"

"No!" Ryou cried, eyes open wide as he reached out to stop Joey from moving away. As he did so, the sudden burst of movement sent another wave of vertigo sweeping through him.

"Whoah, careful," Joey cautioned as he caught Ryou to keep him from hitting the floor again. He sat back down beside Ryou, leaning him against his own shoulder to keep him semi-upright. "Calm down, I won't do anything if you don't want me to." Ryou relaxed a little, but he still crossed his arms over himself, trying to hide his battered body. "Do you want me to help you get changed?" Joey offered quietly, only to have Ryou shake his head firmly as he stared at the floor.

Joey sighed as he took in as many of the injuries as he could: cigarette burns, slit wrists, bruises spotting him all over, fresh red welts criss-crossed his back, and angry bitemarks graced his pale shoulders. It made Joey sick to think of how all those marks had gotten there, but he understood why Ryou wanted to hide them, why he felt ashamed. Joey understood because he'd felt the same way for so long.

"Look, Ryou," he ordered gently, lifting the hem of his own t-shirt to reveal the ugly yellow and green bruises on own torso. They were healing and fading, but they were a nasty sight. Ryou's eyes looked sad and oddly… relieved, not that he was glad that his friend had suffered too, but he was relieved not to have to try and explain it all to him. "I get it," Joey said with a faint grin. "You don't have to be ashamed, at least not with me." The small smile that found its way onto Ryou's face felt strange, but good. It did much to cheer Joey.

In the end, Ryou had allowed Joey to help him change his clothes. Afterward, Joey had swathed Ryou's forearms in antibac and gauze. They'd decided on pancakes and eggs for dinner, and Ryou could not remember the last time he'd enjoyed food so much. Joey had been kind enough to let Ryou sleep in his room, taking the couch for himself. Ryou had been trying to sleep for not even ten minutes when he remembered something important. He slowly crept out of bed, using the wall as a support as he made his way back to the living area. "Joey?"

"Yeah, is somethin' wrong?" Joey sat up on the couch, looking up at his guest with concern.

"Can you please promise not to tell anyone that I'm here?" He looked worried.

"Why?" Joey asked simply. Ryou looked uncomfortable, and Joey sat up fully, patting the spot on the couch beside him. Ryou gingerly made his way there, dropping down beside him with a sigh.

"He's looking for me, I know he is. Not because he cares, but because he's so bloody possessive he can't stand the thought of having anything of his taken away from him." Ryou's hands shook as he explained the situation as it stood. "I know he's going to think that Yugi and Yami took me away, and he'll blame them, and they're safer if they don't know where I am. They've been good to me, and I don't want them to be punished for their kindness."

"I promise not to tell anybody that you're here. You can count on me!" Joey smiled brightly at him, and Ryou smiled weakly back, then covered his mouth as he yawned.

"I really hope he doesn't find me here," Ryou murmured as he rested his head on Joey's shoulder tiredly. Joey put a reassuring arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, pal, I'll protect ya, even if he does find us." Joey couldn't help but wonder if his father might return. The chances were slim at this point, but he'd have to have a plan just in case. He glanced down at Ryou, who'd fallen asleep on his shoulder, and smiled as his heart softened. He still didn't know any details of Ryou's situation, but he didn't want to press him. If he wanted to talk, he'd open up in his own time. Tristan had tried to push Joey to talk before he was ready, and it had gone disastrously, creating a rift between the friends that had since been mended. Joey eased Ryou down into a laying position beside him on the couch, wrapping his arm around his waist to keep him from falling off. Joey fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

"Where the bloody hell is he?!" Bakura demanded and shook Yugi again, pushing him up against the wall as his grip on the front of the hikari's shirt tightened. There was a crazed look in his eyes that Yugi had never seen before, which said something, considering that he'd seen the villain in states of full-blown psychosis.

"I told you, Bakura, I don't know," Yugi was trying to calm the other man down by speaking calming himself. He pressed his hands to Bakura's shoulders carefully trying to push him a little bit away from his face, but that only aggravated Bakura even more. Quick as a cat, he snagged Yugi's wrists in a tight grip and held them above his head in one hand, while he reached behind himself to pull out a savage-looking knife. Yugi's breath hitched in his throat at the sight of the knife, terror striking into his heart. Yami was almost here; he'd summoned him for help using their mind link, so he just had to hold out until then. Once Yami got here, they'd have the situation under control.

"Lies!" he hissed. Yugi flinched as Bakura slapped him, his cheek stinging. Okay, Yugi was done trying to calm him down. He felt Yami's rage through the mind link at the injury done to his beloved, and knew that Bakura would have hell to pay when the pharaoh got there. Yugi kneed Bakura in the stomach, making him grunt in pain. Yugi wrenched his hands free and gave Bakura a hard shove, wrestling him to the ground and trying to pin him down. But Yugi had forgotten that Bakura had a high pain tolerance, and that it was very hard to make him feel any kind of pain in a fight. Well, there was always the one obvious place you could hit a man in a fight, and Yugi managed to knee Bakura in the groin before he gave him the chance to do the same. Bakura swore, and that was when Yami burst in. Yugi had already retreated from the thief's body, which allowed Yami to stride forward and seize the Thief King by the front of his shirt.

"What have you done to him?" Yami growled fiercely in Bakura's face, only to have the criminal start laughing at him.

"As if you don't already know," Yami Bakura answered in a mocking tone, which made the pharaoh's violet eyes flash with violence.

"We don't have him. I haven't seen him in over a month, and whose fault is that?" Yami shoved Bakura against the wall, holding him with both hands now as his anger mounted.

"That's your own fault, Atem," the thief hissed back, further scorning his adversary with the illicit use of his personal name. "If you hadn't been stealing him away from me, I wouldn't have had to separate you two in the first place."

"What are you talking about? He never loved you!" Yami shouted in his face.

"I still need him, though!" the cocky thief shouted back. "And that's something that you'll never understand." The Thief King's scarlet eyes held unfathomable secrets, secrets that Yami knew he'd never want to know. All of the crimes, the perversions, the abuse he'd accumulated throughout the centuries. It revolted him just to think about it.

"If you need him so much, then why don't you find him yourself?" Yami demanded, goading him, trying to get any information out of him that he'd be foolish enough to share. Judging by his current state of mania, that could end up being quite a lot.

"Don't you think I'm trying? He's been gone a full week, and my informants in human trafficking haven't picked up anything about someone with his looks turning up in the market." Yugi flushed crimson upon hearing the thief's words, even as he figured that he should be reassured, because it meant that at least Ryou wasn't being sold into the slave-trade. "I found his backpack on a mugger, so even though he took supplies with him, he lost them pretty quickly. I haven't heard about any white-haired boys turning up dead either. There's no other place for him to be but with a friend or a good Samaritan, and how many of either exist nowadays, huh?"

The thief was cynical, but Yugi had to admit that he was right. Ryou didn't have many friends, thanks to Bakura, and good Samaritans were hard to come by, especially in a big, crowded city like Domino. Yami sneered with frustration and threw his nemesis to the floor. "Get out, and don't come back. If we do find Ryou, you'll be the last to know."

The Spirit of the Millennium Ring chuckled to himself as he got to his feet. "But I'll still know," he tossed over his shoulder before fleeing the apartment.

Yami let out a sigh, all of the anger and tension flowing out of him with the air. Then he strode over to Yugi and kissed his forehead, putting one finger under his chin and tilting his head to the side. "He hit you, didn't he?"

"Yes, but I'll be fine," Yugi breathed out unconvincingly. He was still very shaken up by the whole incident.

"Come on, let's get some ice on that," Yami said gently, putting an arm around Yugi's shoulder and guiding him to the kitchen, where Yami got an ice-pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a towel before pressing it to Yugi's cheek. He lingered there, staring into his partner's eyes with immense sorrow.

"Thank you, Yami," Yugi murmured, touched by the gesture, but worried by how all of this was affecting his beloved.

"This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for me," he murmured regretfully. "Ryou wouldn't have gone missing, you wouldn't have gotten hurt, Bakura wouldn't have attacked you."

"Don't blame yourself," Yugi whispered tenderly, cupping Yami's cheek and caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb, "You gave Ryou something he never had before. You gave him love and a reason to live. You kept him from giving up on everything, and that's something you should never regret."

Yami smiled with tears standing in his eyes. "Thank you, love," he whispered before leaning in to give his boyfriend a grateful kiss.

* * *

"Where could he possibly be?" Bakura whispered as Marik cuddled closer to his lover. The white-haired thief sounded pained, but Marik struggled to understand that pain, and why it was torturing him so much that Ryou was gone. Bakura had always mistreated Ryou, never caring about how his hikari felt, emotionally or physically. He seemed to enjoy torturing him, but he'd never gone so far as to torture Marik. His attentions had been getting harsher in the past two weeks, though, since Ryou'd disappeared. Maybe the thief had needed Ryou in order to have someone under his thumb and at his mercy, and now that he lacked a designated victim, the only person he had at his disposal was his lover. This made Marik nervous, especially because he knew that Bakura's mind was neither stable nor sane.

Marik ran his fingers through Bakura's hair, leaning in to kiss him hungrily, nibbling on Bakura's lower lip until he tasted blood. That got the thief into a better mood. He seized Marik by the hips and positioned him on top, straddling Bakura's own body. His hands slid to Marik's ass as he roughly kissed the tomb-keeper, pressing their hips together so that he could grind against him.

A few hours later, when they'd finished having their fun and Marik was starting to drift off to sleep, Bakura was laying awake thinking of Ryou. Had he been too hard on him? Had he gone too far? He'd known that Ryou was unhappy, but that had been the whole point. Bakura thrived on Ryou's misery and pain, he got off on the taste of his hikari's blood, got high on the total dominion he held over the boy, got drunk on his tears. That's what it meant to be a sadist.

In Bakura's dream that night, Ryou had come home and crawled into Bakura's bed to join him. Bakura yelled at him angrily for leaving even as he hugged the pale angel close to his body. Ryou cried, feeling guilty for leaving, and Bakura lapped up his tears greedily. Bakura rolled Ryou underneath him, snagging his favorite knife from underneath his pillow and slashing Ryou's offered wrist so that he could drink the red liquid that started to trail down his arm. He licked the cut clean until it stopped bleeding, Ryou groaning in pleasure as much as Bakura was, and moved to the boy's neck to mark him with possessive bites and nips. The sensual torture continued, and just as they were both about to get what they wanted, Bakura found himself waking up.

"Damn," he whispered as tears formed in his eyes. "Bloody hell, Ryou, where are you?"

* * *

Ryou pressed a chaste kiss to a sleeping Joey's forehead, pulling a blanket up around him in an attempt to make his nap on the couch more comfortable. Joey worked hard at two jobs still, even though his father had ceased mooching off of him. He wanted to get out of here, to escape the rat's nest he'd lived in most of his life. As soon as they'd paid off the late rent and had the savings to do so, they were going to find a nicer apartment in a less sketchy part of town and move there. Ryou looked forward to not having to look over his shoulder at every turn, watch his back like he'd done something wrong. He'd actually caught a homeless man trying to pick his pocket the other day. He'd stopped the man and gotten away with his wallet intact, feeling awfully proud of himself.

He wasn't a victim anymore, and he was eternally grateful to Joey for teaching him to break the cycle, pointing out that by starving him, his yami'd reduced Ryou to a pile of skin and bones physically incapable of fighting back. So, while Ryou worked on restoring himself to a healthy weight by eating anything he so desired, Joey became his work-out partner, challenging Ryou to become stronger than he'd ever given himself credit for. After all, Joey was doing the same thing: after being half-starved all his life by his father's constant drinking, he was finally bulking up so that he could never be beaten down again. It was uplifting and cheering and an over-all great bonding experience. For once, Ryou knew what it was like to have somebody looking out for you all the time, what it was like to have a best friend so close he was like a brother to you.

He never would have guessed before that he and Joey would have gotten this close, that they had so much in common and would get along so well. It almost made up for having lost Yami. Almost, but not quite. He'd need more time before that wound fully healed. He didn't think he and Joey would ever get involved romantically. He wasn't picking up any vibes from his friend that his interests swung that way, but still, he hoped that he and Joey remained roommates for a long time just the same. A month wasn't enough; he wasn't ready to live without him yet. He wasn't ready for this bubble of safety to pop.

* * *

 **Author Notes:** Sorry to disappoint you, but no, Yami Bakura is not literally a vampire in this story. Just thought I'd clear that up before people asked.


	3. Lord of Dragons

Two and a half months after Joey rescued Ryou, and things were going well. Too well.

It was one of the more peaceful evenings at the apartment when things began to fall apart. Ryou was on the couch reading a novel and Joey was sitting at the table adding up receipts and paycheck stubs to get a grip on where they were financially. Now that they were both working, being as frugal as possible, and almost caught up on rent, Joey wanted to see if they could move to a less sketchy section of town. The sooner they got out of this apartment, the better. Once they'd relocated, Joey felt like there was no way for his father to ever reenter his life.

The sound of a key being fumbled in the lock of the door, accompanied by indistinct, disgruntled muttering, caught the attention of both of them. Joey looked up, eyes widening as he realized what was happening. He sprang up, knocking the chair over with a clatter, rushing for the door but not reaching it in time. His father, looking like homeless hell, burst through the door. The night was still young, but he was already stoned.

"Say, son, can you spare a few?" he slurred, his tone overbearing and entitled. He stepped forward, prepared to take the money he'd come to claim, but Joey stopped him.

"No, Jack," he retained, blocking his father's way. "There's no place for you here. Go."

"Ungrateful son of a—" Jack Wheeler lifted his fists to strike his son, not expecting any resistance on Joey's part, only to be punched in the stomach and pushed back against the wall, doubling over in pain.

"Get out and don't come back," Joey growled, ready to force his father out if necessary. The older man looked up at his son with anger in his eyes. That was when the violence broke out, causing Ryou to drop the library book and retreat behind the couch, out of their way as the two family members fought viciously. It wasn't really a fair fight, since Jack was drunk and Joey had gotten stronger. But Jack fought dirty, and that was why the fight lasted for as long as it did, which still wasn't very long, especially not to Ryou, who'd been ear-witness to several violent wrestling matches between Bakura and Malik that had lasted incredibly long. As much as Ryou didn't want to get involved, he felt obligated to watch, just in case his friend needed his help.

He didn't, though; Joey was capable of handling himself, and soon had his father pinned. "You're going to leave, and you're not going to come back. Got it?" Joey growled.

Jack Wheeler lifted his head, noticing Ryou for the first time. He started laughing like a maniac, then began spouting such obscene accusations that made even Joey's face turn scarlet. The words, however, were not alien to Ryou's ears, and while they didn't shock him, they did hurt. Joey hauled his father up to his feet and shoved him out of the door, locking it firmly behind him. They were both silent and still for several moments before Joey turned around and looked at his friend. Ryou looked upset, and while he blushed, he wasn't nearly as red as Joey.

"Bakura talked like that," Ryou spoke into the relative silence, staring down at his hands with vacant eyes. The first thing that occurred to Joey was that this whole incident might induce some kind of relapse in his recovering friend.

Joey walked over to Ryou, offering him a hand and helping him stand before pulling him into a tight hug. He returned it, feeling a little unsteady.

"Remember, bud: the only power he has over you now is the power you give him." Ryou nodded in answer, closing his eyes as he pressed his face to Joey's shoulder and hugged him even more tightly. Unhappy thoughts swirled through his mind in a dark vortex that threatened to suck him in.

"I think I'll go to bed now," Ryou said quietly at last. Joey looked worried, but didn't say anything beyond wishing him sound sleep.

Ryou lay in bed awake for hours, fighting the itch to reach for the stolen blade and slit his skin the way Bakura taught him to. Joey'd never had the urge to do so before, but Mr. Wheeler's drunken tirade had triggered something inside him. The words had been much too close to what his yami would shout when he lashed his host with his belt. Hearing those words reawakened the utter pain and grief that Ryou had felt at such times, making him feel as if he'd just relived the torture in full. If he was honest with himself, he had felt a strange sense of release when Bakura had cut him, a distraction from everything else that ached; it had felt like being able to breathe again, like regaining some ghostly semblance of control. Yet here he was, in full control of his life, so why did he find himself craving the knife? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

Joey was right: he had to be strong, to not give in to his influence. He bit his bottom lip, tagging at the skin with his teeth until he tasted blood. The small twinge of pain helped him get a grip on himself. He rolled over onto his side to face the wall, slowly drifting off to sleep. As his eyes closed, a hand bearing a potent-smelling cloth clamped over his mouth and nose, sending a jolt of fear through his system. He immediately began to struggle, but the drugs were strong and had soon taken effect, sedating him.

* * *

Bakura's face was the first thing Ryou saw when he opened his eyes, and he felt sick to his stomach. He tried to move, but found that his limbs would not obey. His captor grinned and lifted Ryou's left arm, examining it with an admiring gaze.

"You've gotten stronger, Yadonushi," he crooned softly. His tone was too kind, too gentle; it made Ryou nervous. "If I didn't know any better, I would think that you planned on fighting back." The warm purr sent chills down Ryou's spine. His yami chuckled as he watched fear flicker across his victim's face. "But I do know better," he continued, his voice as silky as a smoker's could get. "And I know that you won't fight back, not just because I've drugged you to keep you from resisting, but because you belong to me, and you know it. That's why you didn't leave Domino, didn't run away any further away than a few neighborhoods. You knew I'd come back for you, and some part of you wanted me to find you. Well, here I am and here you are, so, what do you say you and I have a little FUN?"

Bakura's eyes glistened as he dug his fingernails into Ryou's skin. "Wanna play a little game?"

* * *

When Joey woke up late next morning, he could tell that something was wrong. Ryou's phones was still plugged in charging on the kitchen counter, the tea mug he always set out for the morning the night before still next to his phone. He didn't take his phone or make tea. That was strange. Had he overslept? Joey, mug of black coffee in hand, went to Ryou's room and knocked on the door. There was no answer, and even as he opened it he remembered that Ryou always left the door to his room open in the morning when he left for work. The bed was a mess—also unusual—and the window was open ever so slightly. Still, no sign of Ryou. This was too weird for Joey to ignore, so he grabbed his cell and dialed Yugi's number. If Ryou was in trouble, then it was time to enlist his friends' help and tell him what had been going on.

* * *

Seto held out a hand and helped Mokuba out of the limo, even as he spoke with a foreign business associate in Mandarin on his bluetooth headset. He turned towards the KaibaCorp building, approaching it with his briefcase in one hand with the other in the pocket of his suit when suddenly Mokuba seized his arm and turned him around, crying out something Seto didn't catch due to the Chinese chatter in his ear as his brother pointed towards a passing car. Seto paused mid-sentence as he saw what Mokuba was trying to point out: the head and hands of Ryou Bakura, bound and gagged, were just barely visible in the back window of a nondescript vehicle. Seto's eyes flashed straight to the license plate and committed the code to memory even as he tersely apologized to his associate and hung up. He immediately dialed 9-1-1, putting a comforting arm around his brother's shoulders. Mokuba started shaking as he hugged his brother tightly, clearly distressed as Seto calmly informed the dispatcher of what he'd seen, relaying the identity of the victim, the model of the car, the license plate number, their current location, and the direction the vehicle was heading in. He requested to be informed if there was a successful rescue of the victim, then hung up. He looked down at his upset younger brother and sighed, scooping him up in one arm and carrying him inside, beginning to reassure him that everything would be alright, that the police would find and free Ryou. He had to wonder, though, why the kidnapper would risk driving through the business district in daylight. Granted, it wasn't even six a.m., so fewer people were out and about, but it had been enough that the Kaibas had been there, with Mokuba to notice what was wrong and Seto to do something about it. What mattered most was that Ryou would be rescued and that everything would be alright.

* * *

Ryou jumped at every noise, every flash of movement in his peripheral vision as the medics tended to his wounds. They applied salves and creams to his bruises and cuts, bandaging him up to the point where he started to look like a mummy. They had already taken an x-ray and were waiting for the results while they treated all of Ryou's visible injuries. It didn't take long for the images to develop; in fact, it took longer for them to completely treat everything else. They offered him painkillers, but Ryou turned them down, hating the idea of having his faculties even slightly impaired.

When the doctor came back with the x-ray photos, Ryou's heart sank. Three ribs broken, four hairline fractures. They gave him specific instructions about what he could and could not do with broken ribs, giving him specific instructions for how long to ice them and how often. They gave him a small sample pack of potent painkillers and wrote him a prescription for the same. They said that if he could keep from agitating the bones or making them worse, they should be fully healed in two months. If he was still experiencing intense pain at that time, then he would need to come in for a follow up appointment.

The doctor had just finished giving Ryou instructions when a raven-haired blur dashed into the room and threw his arms around Ryou in a hug, making the teen wince quietly. "Bakura, you're alright!" the younger Kaiba exclaimed, looking up with shining eyes at the duelist he'd befriended during the Battle City Tournament and lost touch with in the past year.

"Ah, yes, I'm fine," Ryou answered cheerfully as the doctor retreated from the room, making way for the elder Kaiba. Looking up at his former classmate, he asked perplexedly, "How did you know I was here?"

Seto looked at him in confusion. "You don't remember seeing us as you passed the KaibaCorp headquarters this morning?" he asked, content to cut the crap and get straight to the point.

Ryou smiled ruefully as he pat Mokuba's head. "Sadly, I don't. The doctors say I was drugged, which is why I can't remember anything after, I think, nine o'clock last night or before the police found me this morning, and I'm still having difficulty even recalling that." Ryou looked troubled, and Seto's restless mind set to worry over the problem.

"Have they identified the drug yet?" he asked in his forward manner.

"Not yet, but they have their suspicions." Ryou's cheeks tinged with scarlet as he glanced down at Mokuba to distract himself. He didn't need to tell his peer that he'd been duped with an altered form of a date-rape drug, and he especially didn't need to do so in front of his little brother.

"Do you remember who did this to you?" Seto continued his interrogation, since Ryou didn't seem traumatized and was therefore fully capable of answering his questions.

Ryou would have answered, but he felt Mokuba cling to him tightly. The child was upset by the discussion, which Seto was just starting to pick up on. He pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to his brother, telling him to get whatever he wanted from the vending machine down the hall.

"Should he go alone?" Ryou asked nervously.

"The guard outside the room will accompany him," Seto answered as he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. "Who did this?"

Ryou had to give Seto credit for being persistent, if nothing else. He actually did appreciate Seto's logical approach to this, though. For once, somebody wasn't staring at him with sad puppy eyes full of pity. It was nice to have somebody who saw him as whole, capable, strong. "The Spirit of the Millennium Ring. I should have known that giving him his own body would be a mistake." He finally let his frustration and annoyance flicker across his expression, even as he tried not to reveal the sudden light-headedness that swept over him.

"What do you recall from when the police found you?" Seto seemed determined to pursue the subject to get as many details as possible.

Ryou rubbed his head with a sigh. "The car had been totaled in a side-alley, but he was long gone. I think he totaled it in the police chase. They found me in the trunk, restrained, injured, and only half-conscious. After that, they took me here, and while I was waiting to be seen by a medic, an officer interviewed me to get as much information as possible." He paused. "I told them that the Spirit was my identical twin brother and that he'd gone bad when he got into drug dealing a few years ago, which isn't all false. I was born in England and my birth certificate is in THEIR system, so hopefully they won't notice that I don't actually have a twin brother." He really hoped that this didn't come back to bite him. If the police tried to visit the apartment that was rented in his name, he wouldn't be there. Bakura might be, or he might not, and Ryou couldn't forgive himself if Bakura killed police officers as they attempted to arrest the serial criminal.

Seto was silent, and Ryou could tell that the young CEO was thinking. Mokuba re-entered the room then with a packet of poptarts, a bag of M&Ms, and a roll of lifesavers. He seemed pleased with his legal plunder, and Seto seemed amused by that. "When I arrived at the hospital, I called Yugi and told him you were here. He and Wheeler are on their way." Ryou looked up at Kaiba in surprise. "Call me if you remember anything else," he added, handing Ryou his card. "Come on, Mokuba, we need to get going. I can't be late for my meeting."

"Bye, Ryou! I hope you feel better soon!" Mokuba called as his older brother shepherded him out of the hospital room, leaving Ryou alone with the pills and the pain.

* * *

"Ryou, you're alright!" Joey shouted as soon as he caught sight of his friend exiting the hospital, rushing forward to ensnare him in a bear hug. Ryou was immediately grateful that he'd finally give in and taken some of the painkillers. He returned the hug and closed his eyes, relieved to see his best friend again. "I was so worried about you. My old man turned up at the apartment yesterday, dead drunk of course. Apparently he sold you out to Bakura for some cash." The scorn and loathing in his voice was actually somewhat touching, because it spoke to just how much Joey cared for him. "I don't know how those two even knew each other, but I kicked him out then talked to the landlord. Our lease is up in a month, so we have that long to find a new place and move in." He finally released his roommate, only to have Yugi pounce on him next, hugging him more gently but just as enthusiastically as Joey had.

"Yami and I have been worried sick about you," he chastised, sounding upset. Ryou felt guilty as he saw the tears that were gathering in Yugi's eyes, but Yugi just wiped them away with a faint smile. "I'm just so glad that you're okay. I was surprised when Joey told me that you've been staying with him all along." Yugi took a deep breath, then added, "Yami's at work right now otherwise he'd be here too. I texted him to let you know that you've been found. Come on, we need to get you back to the apartment so that you can rest."

Ryou let himself be led to the apartment Yugi and Yami shared, a friend walking on either side. It was weird, but a good kind of weird. While at Yugi's apartment, he ate a decent meal and explained to them the bare bones of what had happened—sparing them the gory and intimate details, of course—and how he'd been saved, pointing out Kaiba's thoughtfulness in not only calling the police and ensuring his rescue, but also in even coming to visit him and offering his help in catching the criminal.

Ryou napped in the late morning, tired after the events of yesterday and last night. When he woke up, Joey'd left for work, and Yugi'd promised him that he was welcome to stay the night if he didn't feel well enough to go back to Joey's place that night. Ryou felt conflicted, wanting to stay and see Yami because after everything he still missed him, and besides it would be rude to leave before he got home. But he also felt nervous about seeing him again after all this time. Ryou had explained to Yugi why he hadn't come to them when he'd left Bakura, and the reasons that he told Yugi were simple enough. But when he was honest with himself, he admitted that there were other reasons that he hadn't accepted their offered help.

At around five o'clock, Yugi announced that he was missing some ingredients for dinner and that he needed to run to the supermarket. He said he'd be back before six, then left Ryou alone in the clean, comfortable apartment.

Minutes later, Yami came home. He dropped his bag on the floor and moved straight towards Ryou, who was sitting on the couch drinking tea. He set down his cup of tea on the coffee-table just as Yami took his face in his hands and kissed him. It only took a moment for Ryou to start returning it.

The kiss was bittersweet, filled with memories of the good times they'd had, and even those good times had been marred with bruises and residual pain. Their relationship had always been bittersweet, and it always would be. Yami gradually lowered himself to the couch beside his long-lost lover, refusing to break the kiss until it was absolutely necessary. Ryou's heart ached as it swelled in response to the tender sweetness Yami had always used in touching the frail angel he loved.

He may be hurt, but he wasn't so frail anymore. Ryou slid over to straddle Yami's lap as they continued the steamy kiss. Yami felt the strength in Ryou's hands as they rested on his shoulders and slid down his chest. Neither of them wanted it to ever end, but their lips finally broke apart when their lungs were burning with a need for oxygen. They sat together, panting as Yami wound his fingers through Ryou's cascade of white locks and Ryou leaned his head against Yami's shoulder.

"Why didn't you come to us?" Yami's pained whisper plucked at Ryou's heartstrings. "I was afraid you were _dead_."

"Because I couldn't put you in danger. I knew he would come looking for me here, and I couldn't risk either of you knowing anything about my whereabouts. He always knows when he's being lied to. I needed to disappear. I didn't know where I was going when I left, and I got mugged, but Joey found me and took me home. He's helped me get back on my feet, taught me how to fight back in case I ever saw Bakura again. I didn't intend to end up at his place, but it worked out. I'm doing really well with him." He sighed, his lips brushing across Yami's neck, making the other man gasp. "And… and Bakura really started screwing with my head after he separated us," Ryou murmured sadly against the former pharaoh's skin. "I'm still trying to untangle the truth from the lies in all that he told me. He tried to make me believe that you'd never loved me."

"Did he succeed?" Yami couldn't help but ask as the pain mounted in his chest.

"He got bloody damn close," Ryou swore, making Yami's skin prickle. He didn't know why, but for some reason hearing the coarse language tossed out nonchalantly by the good, innocent, Catholic-school boy turned Yami on. "He certainly made me believe that I wasn't worthy of your love. Deep down I always knew that you would never lie and lead me on like that."

Yami looped his arms around Ryou's waist, letting out a small sigh. "So, what now? Would you be willing to move in with us?"

Ryou sighed, struggling with the conflict inside of himself. "I hate cutting between you and Yugi like this. You two are so perfect for each other, and my presence would just make jealousy inevitable. I don't want to cause more strife for you two than is necessary."

Yami wasn't happy to hear his answer, but he could respect it. Besides, Ryou was stronger now. He was free from his yami, and he'd gained a strong sense of confidence and purpose. He knew who he was and what he was doing with himself, with his life. Yami didn't like losing Ryou under any circumstances, but if he had to lose him, these were the most favorable circumstances he could wish for.

"Can I just have one more night, Ryou?" he pleaded faintly. "One last time?" After months of uncertainty, wondering, and worrying, he wanted to embrace his broken angel and make love to him once more before saying goodbye for good.

* * *

It was barely five in the morning when Ryou wrote a brief note to Yami and Yugi on a napkin, leaving it on the fridge with a magnet and a twenty dollar bill from his wallet before slipping out of their apartment, paying them back for the money they'd lent him. He felt regret, shame, grief, and that bittersweetness he'd known to expect. He wished that he had the courage to face them, to say goodbye and thank them in person. He wished that he didn't regret spending one last night with his former lover. They'd been seeing each other for so long, but Ryou knew that it was wrong for him to stay. He swallowed down one of the percocet pills the doctor had given him, the pain in his chest almost unendurable after their activities last night. He should've known better than to stay. It made the emotional and physical pains in his chest too intense, too much to bear.

Yugi, a light sleeper, was roused by the small amount of noise he heard in the kitchen. He slipped out of bed and cracked open his bedroom door in time to see Ryou slipping out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind himself. Yugi wished him well, wherever life took him.

* * *

When Ryou entered Joey's apartment, he tried to be as quiet as possible. He knew that Joey had only been home for a couple of hours and that he must be sleeping at the moment. He always got out of work late, preferring to work the afternoon, evening, and late night shifts for some reason. As Ryou flopped down onto his bed, he let out a groan. He really wasn't feeling too well. Had he taken too much medicine to try and cope with the pain he'd been stupid enough to induce with sex? Probably. He hauled himself to his feet and walked over to his windows, making sure they were closed and locked before he closed the blinds and shuffled out of his clothes. Feeling nauseous and dizzy, as if he'd gotten another concussion, he collapsed into bed, curling up among the sheets and squeezing his eyes shut to make the world stop spinning. At least he didn't have work today; he would have to call in though to let them know what had happened. The fractures were bad enough that he wasn't supposed to work for at least a few weeks. He didn't know if he truly fell asleep, but he did eventually drift into unconsciousness in his shadowy bedroom.

* * *

Joey called in sick to work the next day. He never called in sick when he actually was sick, because he never thought it was worth it, but it was definitely worth it to call in sick for Ryou's sake. Sure, the British boy had put on a brave face for him and Yugi yesterday, but Joey was attuned enough to Ryou's moods and expressions now to tell when he was faking it. Ryou was just barely holding on after the forty-eight hours he'd spent in his yami's clutches.

When Ryou still hadn't emerged from his room by noon, Joey decided to check on him. He rapped on the door gently before cracking the door open. The room was still dark, and Ryou lifted his head to look up at Joey. His eyes looked hollow, and yesterday's smile was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey pal, how are you feeling?" Joey asked with a smile, not trying to pretend that everything was alright, but trying to cheer him up a bit all the same. He entered the room and approached his friend as Ryou dropped his head back to the pillow.

"Awful," Ryou grumbled. He rubbed the bandage on his upper right arm, the one that hid a neat row of stitches from where he'd been impaled with glass from the car's windows. "The pain is unbearable, but the painkillers make me feel like I'm simultaneously hungover and drunk."

Joey couldn't recall ever seeing Ryou this surly before (or ever seeing him hungover _or_ drunk for that matter); it was actually quite amusing to see him pout and gripe about his current situation, even if the situation itself was nothing to laugh about. He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, inhaling deeply before asking a question he'd been putting off ever since he'd found Ryou in the alleyway: "What exactly was going on between you and Bakura? I don't mean what happened yesterday, but back when you were living together, right before I found you."

Ryou stared up at Joey with wide eyes, unhappy memories flickering through his mind. He looked away to stare at the wall, letting out a sigh. "He was never a kind person," Ryou began with difficulty. "I just didn't know he was this cruel. It started with him just pushing me around a bit. A few bruises here and there, but nothing too serious. It didn't interfere with how I went about my life. Then he got… angry, or maybe he was always that way, and I just didn't realize it. He started beating me, threatening me, bossing me around and not letting me out of the apartment. He yelled a lot, but I tried not to let it bother me." He paused, his breath catching in his throat. "He once threw me down a set of stairs." He began to feel nervous as he contemplated whether or not to tell Joey about his "affair" with Yami. After all, it had been a crucial impetus in destroying Ryou's life, but then again, it had also been a secret between Yugi, Ryou, and their yamis. Ryou pulled a pillow up over his face, hiding the way his eyes watered. "I'm sorry, I can't…" he choked out before he needed to stop.

A moment later, he felt Joey gently pulling him into a sitting position and tugging him into a gentle hug. "It's okay, I know, these kinds of things are hard to talk about."

Ryou couldn't talk, but his arms were wrapped tightly around his best friend, his shaking hands gripping fistfuls of Joey's shirt tightly as he tried desperately not to cry. Joey felt like something was horribly wrong. Bakura had done more than just beat up Ryou on a daily basis, he could tell. It sickened him to recall Ryou's state upon finding him in the alley. The slashed wrists, the prominent ribs, the many bruises, the cigarette burns, the hunted look in his eyes. He felt Ryou clasp him even more tightly as his shoulders shook, and Joey decided to keep his mouth shut, just let Ryou work things out inside himself.

Ryou's arms loosened momentarily as he adjusted his hold, taking in a deep, shuddering breath before letting it out. He buried his face in Joey's chest, letting the musky, masculine scent soothe him even as he started to cry. "He's a monster," he whispered, finally finding the words inside himself to voice what he felt. "A sadist. I don't… I don't understand how he can enjoy hurting people so much…" He sniffled, and Joey's hand tentatively caressed the back of Ryou's head. " _He_ cut my wrists, you know," he continued through the tears. "I think he was trying to make me start doing it on my own, but I never did. I couldn't let him win." He was sobbing outright now, and the words spilled from his lips just as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "He would take me… by force, and whenever I said no, he'd hit me with his belt. I… I didn't know how much longer I could last…"

Ryou dissolved into violent tears, and Joey shushed him gently, regretting that he'd even asked in the first place. The last thing he wanted was to upset Ryou or make things any harder for him than they already were. He saw now that Bakura had damaged Ryou's mind much more than he'd ever hurt his body. "You're safe now, pal," he whispered, daring to press an affectionate kiss to the top of his friend's head.

"I'm not safe until he's dead," Ryou sobbed grimly, burying himself in Joey's presence as much as possible, perfectly willing to lose his sense of self in Joey's upbeat, dependable, yet impulsive, personality. Even as Ryou cursed himself for developing a crush on his flatmate, he reveled in his presence. Those words turned over and over in Joey's mind. While he wouldn't—and couldn't—kill Bakura or bring about his death, perhaps there was something else he could do that was just as good.

"Would some distance help?" Joey asked suddenly as he absent-mindedly stroked Ryou's hair in a reassuring manner.

Ryou lifted his tear-stained face to blink up at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean would you feel better moving out of Domino, putting some distance between you and him, between you and the place where the bad things happened. The lease runs out in just one more month, so if we can find an apartment in another town by then, we could move pretty soon."

"You'd… you'd do that for me?" Ryou wiped at his eyes as he processed Joey's words. He'd said we. We could move to another town.

"Of course! We're buddies, right? Besides, I think one of the places I work at is about to run itself out of business any day now. We can look at a map, pick a town, go job-huntin', find a place we could rent for a decent price, and just leave. Bakura'll neveh know, and then you can feel safe again." Joey grinned as he watched Ryou's face take on an expression of gratitude and surprise, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn't know what to say. Finally, though the words broke free from his lips.

"Thank you, Joey!" he cried as he clasped his arms around Joey's neck, ignoring the pain in his chest and the way the world around him seemed to spin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"You're welcome," the blond answered graciously, smiling ear to ear. He was happy to have pleased Ryou so much, pleased when his companion kissed his cheek on impulse.

Ryou was so happy that the only thing restraining him from kissing Joey full on the lips was the dizziness the percocet had induced and that was now sweeping over him full-force. He swayed unsteadily in his friend's arms, and thankfully Joey noticed and placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Are you feelin' alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, just… dizzy," Ryou murmured, rubbing at his eyes again as he suppressed a yawn. He'd gotten little sleep last night, having forced himself awake at an early hour so that he could flee undetected and then lain awake in his own bed for hours contemplating the pain and regret and fear that the events of the past few days had reawakened in him. Joey gently lay him down once more, and while Ryou was reluctant to let go of the one thing keeping him steady, he made himself do so. Although Joey let go of him, he stayed rather close to Ryou.

"You haven't eaten all morning, have you?" Ryou shook his head. "Could I get you something to eat? Maybe soup, or a sandwich?"

"A sandwich sounds good," Ryou answered after a moment, not even knowing why he was blushing. As Joey left to make them both some lunch, Ryou pondered their entire conversation. Something had changed between them, he could feel it. Joey had crossed the first line when he'd kissed Ryou's hair, then Ryou'd crossed the next line when he kissed Joey's cheek. He had feelings for Joey, that much he knew. Was it possible that Joey had feelings for him too? He hoped so, yet there was a tiny bit of him that feared it too. He didn't want to love again only to have Bakura show up and ruin things. What if Bakura found out and hurt Joey? What if he killed him? The very thought of it made Ryou's blood run cold.

Meanwhile, Joey was relieved that Ryou had agreed to eating something. While he'd said that Bakura had been the one starve him, he didn't want the idea of starving himself to creep into Ryou's mind. He'd seen how rattled Ryou'd been when he'd heard Bakura's words in Mr. Wheeler's mouth, and he didn't want a small, temporary hunger to keep reminding him of what else Bakura had done to him. He'd made it his personal mission to help fix Ryou until he'd erased as many traces of Bakura's abuse as was possible. Yet, he seemed to find himself falling for his friend along the way. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not, but he was content to let things run their natural course and just see what happened.

* * *

When Yami awoke that morning, he was devastated to find that Ryou had left without saying a proper goodbye. There'd been so much more that he wanted to tell him, so much more that he wanted to do to help him. He'd felt last night the damage that had been done in the one day he'd been captured, and when he'd mentioned it, Ryou hadn't seemed to care. He was used to that pain, didn't even know that there was a way to heal the damage, and had insisted that Yami continue with what he was doing. Unfortunately, he'd been successful in that, and now Yami wished that he'd had the self-control to stop, to ask what had happened, to tend to the injury properly.

He'd been raped by his bastard of a yami. That was the only possible explanation for such a fresh rectal tear. The pharaoh had even thought that he felt older scars as well, indicating that it had happened before. They hadn't been there the last time Yami and Ryou had met up at the hotel, which meant that Yami Bakura had been raping him for that whole month between his last visit with Ryou and when Ryou had run away. Just thinking about it made the pharaoh furious, but it broke his heart even more when he realized that whatever pain Ryou had felt last night—great as it must have been—must have been significantly inferior to whatever pain Bakura had inflicted on him. Either that, or Bakura had turned his hikari into a masochist.

Both possibilities nauseated Yami, who kept all of these thoughts to himself for the rest of the day, but ended up confiding in Yugi that evening over dinner. He never lied to Yugi, after all, and he hated hiding anything from him. He'd never even tried to hide his affair with Ryou; in fact, he'd asked Yugi for permission right off the bat, explaining that Ryou was lonely and mistreated, that he needed the affection and that it was for his own good, that Yami still loved Yugi above all else.

Yugi became concerned as Yami confessed what he'd discovered last night. "But, he talked to the police about what happened, and he was at the hospital. Did he not tell them what had happened?"

"I suppose not," Yami sighed. "I can see why it would be a difficult thing to admit to, though. I wonder if he even told Joey about that happening."

"If he didn't tell the police or the nurses, I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't," Yugi said sadly, then reached across the table to give Yami's hand a squeeze, making his partner smile. "Don't worry too much about him, though, okay? He's a lot stronger now than he was before, and Joey's been a great influence on him. I think he's going to be alright."

Their conversation turned to other things as they continued to eat, but as they cuddled on the couch afterward, each with a glass of wine in hand, something occurred to Yami that made him bring the topic up again.

"Joey and Ryou… Do you think there's something between them?" Yami asked thoughtfully.

"Well, I doubt they are in a serious relationship, otherwise he wouldn't have stayed the night. Besides, they didn't act like they were a couple when we were hanging out," Yugi answered, recalling the details of yesterday. "I wouldn't be surprised, though, if they became a couple soon. There were some moments now and then when one of them would look at the other with a little smile, like they knew a secret or something. Ryou was a little more obvious about it, though I doubt he meant to be," Yugi added before taking a sip of his merlot. "I could see them making a good couple. Like I said, Joey's good for Ryou, but the converse is also true. I think having Ryou around has helped Joey to mature a bit. I've never seen either of them doing so well, despite the circumstances."

Yami kissed Yugi's cheek with a smile as he let those words sink into him. He felt much better letting go of Ryou if he was releasing him into Joey's strong hands. He was finally able to let go of the persistent nag of worry deep in his soul, and for the first time in almost a year, he was free from concern. Yugi blinked up at his partner in surprise, then leaned forward and, with an adorable smile, rubbed his nose against the pharaoh's.

"I love you," they both said simultaneously, making them laugh with sheer joy as they relaxed into the comfort of their domestic bliss.

* * *

Author Notes: I hope you enjoyed the update! Seto will be back in the next chapter as well, so stick around for that, if nothing else! The puffshipping will develop a bit more, and I might actually be leaving the puzzleshipping where it is, though I do seem to keep coming back to it at the end of each chapter. ;) Let me know what you think of it so far, and I hope you choose to follow this story!


	4. Change of Heart

**Author Notes:** If you like the twist of Puppyshipping/Euroshipping/Teaseshipping, or even if you don't, please let me know in a review! I'm almost at the end of what I'd planned for this story, so if you don't want the next chapter to be the last, let me know in a review and I'll find a way to keep it going! Enjoy!

* * *

Joey was surprised when he came home late from work one night to hear voices coming from Ryou's room. He took his jacket off quietly and crept towards Ryou's bedroom door, which was open just a crack. He recognized Ryou's voice and Bakura's as well, which made him bristle protectively.

"You've been trying to turn me into _you_ all this time," Ryou accused, his tone touched with a note of revelation and horror. "That's why you tried to make me smoke, to make me drink, to make me cut. _You_ smoke and drink, and I'll bet you cut at some point too, didn't you?" There was a pause, and since Bakura made no attempt to stop or contradict him, Ryou continued. " _You_ were beaten and starved and raped too, weren't you? Why do you have to inflict all of that on _me_? Why do I need to be like you? Why do I need to suffer like you?"

"Because we are part of the same soul, you and I, even though you refuse to believe it. Since you didn't wish to become one with me, since you chose to fully separate yourself from me, I needed to make us the same in a different way. It would have been easier if you'd let us join together, but this is what you chose."

"But _why_ do you—"

"Foolish boy, you still don't get it!" Joey heard a loud slam and had to fight the instinct to burst through the door and save Ryou. He didn't hear any sounds of pain or cries for help, so he needed to let Ryou stand on his own.

"You don't understand why you're here. Whatever shred of goodness that was left in my soul escaped me millennia ago and has come back in _you_. You're my redemption: suffer like me, but don't sink into the darkness like me."

"You're insane," Ryou said with clear disdain.

"Just like you," Bakura retorted with a hint of amusement. A long pause followed, making Joey feel uncomfortable.

"Get off me," Ryou muttered bitterly as he shoved Bakura away, trying to ignore the lingering taste of his kiss. "Just get out, and don't come back." Bakura obliged, giving Ryou one last fiendish grin before leaving through the window and disappearing into the night.

"Good riddance," Ryou sighed as he closed and locked the window, then started at the sound of a knock.

"Ryou, is everything alright?" Joey asked softly as he pushed the door open a bit and poked his head inside the room.

"Yes, I'm alright," Ryou answered with a shaky smile.

"I just got home and I heard you talking with someone. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I wanted to make sure that you were okay." Joey wanted to be honest, so he came clean right off the bat, smiling apologetically.

"It's alright," Ryou answered tiredly. "Bakura broke in for one more visit. Hopefully it'll be his last one, for a while at least, since he's on the run."

"Did he hurt you?" Joey asked immediately, his concern apparent.

"No, not physically at least," he answered, waving it off casually. "I think he knew that he didn't have the time to do what he would've wanted to do." Joey nodded grimly, hoping that his blush went unnoticed in the shadowy moonlight filling the room. Ryou noticed it, but didn't think any less of him for it. He'd become accustomed to experiencing about horrors most people didn't even dare speak about. Joey's reaction was the natural one in this situation; Ryou was the strange one.

* * *

An awkward romantic tension hovered between the two friends for the next week before one of them finally did something about it. It was one of the few days when Joey was home in the evening, and while the apartment was relatively quiet, it was far from being as peaceful as it looked. The tension was still there, and Joey was trying to fight the feelings he felt, thinking it to be indecent of him to make an advance on the friend he'd given refuge to and who was still recovering from being physically, psychologically, and sexually abused. Ryou had been too afraid of the risk involved to do anything about his feelings just yet. At least the worst of his chest pain was starting to fade, letting him switch from Percocet to Advil and bypass the nausea and vertigo that accompanied the prescription pain-killer.

Ryou was sitting on the couch with a library book, reading like he usually did in his spare time. He looked at Joey out of the corner of his eye, letting out a quiet, wistful sigh. Then frustration sparked in his chest. He was done dancing around the elephant in the apartment that was practically suffocating the both of them. He closed the book and set it down, standing and walking over to where Joey was making dinner at the stove. He went right up to Joey's side, and when Joey turned his head to look at Ryou, about to ask if he needed something, Ryou leaned forward and kissed him, closing his eyes as their lips met. Joey froze, then made a small noise in the back of his throat as he closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss, slipping an arm around Ryou's slender waist and pulling him closer. They kissed tentatively at first, soon deepening it as they realized what this meant.

Ryou was the first to gently pull back, laying his head on Joey's shoulder as the blond stood stunned for a moment. Ryou reached out one hand to grab the wooden spoon and stir the contents of the frying pan so that their food didn't burn, a sly, smug smile on his face. Joey was still blinking, his mouth gaping in shock.

"Close your mouth, Joey, or you'll catch flies," Ryou purred, putting his arms around Joey's neck as he nuzzled close against him. Joey obeyed and looked down at his roommate, his cheeks turning crimson.

"Ryou, I…" He didn't have the words to adequately express how he felt. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_ ," Ryou answered warmly, his chocolate eyes glowing up at Joey, whose attention was divided between his crush and their dinner. "For everything, I mean. You've given me a lot in the past few months, and hope isn't the least of all." He paused, having the decency to blush a bit himself now. "That includes the hope for a relationship that won't be abusive." Joey put both arms around Ryou, hugging him close.

"I don't make promises easily, Ryou, but I can promise you this: I will never hurt you." He kissed Ryou's forehead, making the Brit close his eyes and sigh with contentment.

* * *

The two of them fell into an easy, intimate routine after that, and Ryou decided that kissing Joey was one of the best decisions he'd ever made. Ryou's ribs were still broken, though, so they couldn't be too intimate, but that made everything they did take on a new flavor. It was more emotional, more spiritual, than physical. Taking things slow with Joey was allowing the both of them to build a solid foundation for their relationship, which was more than Ryou'd ever done with Yami. Their relationship had started as something physical, with the emotional aspect following after. Then again, that relationship had been far from normal, so maybe that wasn't a fair comparison.

In the next two weeks, they began to make preparations for their move, visiting a nearby city to look around and find a nice apartment building in a not-too-sketchy part of town. They were fairly successful with this search and felt satisfied with their plans. Although they both looked forward to their new life together in a new town, Ryou had his reasons for finding it hard to let go of Domino City.

* * *

They were leaving for their new home in a week, and Ryou was wondering if he ought to visit with his closest friends to tell them goodbye, his closest friends—aside from Joey—being Yugi, Yami, and Seto. The first two were obviously deserving of a proper goodbye, and it was easy enough to arrange meeting them for a farewell. Seto, though…

A month after coming to live with Joey, Ryou, feeling restless and adventurous, had gone to a bar one night while Joey was working, equipped with Bakura's fake ID (which he'd stolen by accident when he'd left his abusive alter ego), his wallet, and an open mind. As chance would have it, Ryou ended up at the same bar Seto Kaiba had gone to that very night. He was there for the purpose of getting drunk and drowning in his secret sorrows, and maybe even obtaining a lover for the night. Seto had been only half drunk when Ryou sat beside him at the bar, ordering a Shirley Temple (having chickened out about actually using the fake ID) and striking up a conversation with his former classmate. One thing led to another, and after not too long, they'd left together in Seto's limo to check into a hotel—apparently Kaiba preferred to keep his occasional bar visits and one-night stands secret from his younger brother.

It had been a great night for both of them: Ryou had no regrets, feeling like it was the first time in his life when he'd taken a risk and nothing had gone wrong. Their chemistry had been excellent, and he was glad that the first person he'd allowed to penetrate him had been Seto, who was experienced enough to know what he was doing and kind enough to avoid aggravating the marks of abuse that were still fading from his pale body.

Yami had never entered him when they were lovers, for whatever reason. He claimed it was because he didn't want to cause Ryou more physical pain or give Bakura something else to criticize about his hikari. Ryou had always secretly wondered if it was a condition Yugi had set as part of their arrangement.

Seto had passed out, still slightly tipsy, at around four in the morning, at which point Ryou would have loved to collapse on the bed beside him and sleep to his heart's content, but it was time for him to get going so that he wasn't late for work. He showered first, accepting the fact that his hair would still be wet when he left, and donned his clothes from last night. He went around the room quietly and gathered them from the floor. Once dressed, he did the same with Seto's clothes, folding them neatly and leaving them in a stack on the desk with a brief note on top. Ryou wasn't informed about the proper etiquette of a one-night stand, but he felt like it was rude to leave before his partner woke without even leaving a note. After thinking for several minutes, he finally penned a message he found satisfactory: he expressed his gratitude and the reason he'd left so early, then, on a whim, jotted down his cell number on the back of the hotel stationary. Just in case.

Kaiba didn't call him, and that was alright. Ryou figured that he was a busy man, and their arrangement had merely been a "no strings attached" affair, after all. It would be silly to be bothered by the fact that he didn't call. Every now and then, though, Ryou would fondly recall their one night together. How he and Seto had crossed hands when both had simultaneously reached for the light switch in order to darken the room, both of them preferring not to wear their scars in the light. How Seto had then flicked the switch and brought Ryou's left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the scarred palm. How Seto had quickly come to understand, with just the use of his hands on Ryou's torso, that his body was somewhat broken beneath the surface, and accordingly handled his partner with a gentleness so sweet that it touched his heart and almost made him cry. How he'd identified Seto's own scars when he ran his hands down the executive's back, and understood in that instant that they were more alike than he ever could have guessed. On that night, he and Seto had shared a strange equality that Ryou didn't think he'd ever experienced before. With Yami, he'd been physically weak, less experienced, and thus unable to do much else aside from receiving his attentions and returning them in the capacity that he could (which hadn't been much, given his injuries and exhaustion). With Bakura, he'd been an unwilling participant subjected to hellish torture. With Seto, though, he was whole, and Ryou was now mature enough and strong enough to fit both roles. They'd treated each other with respect and compassion as they made love in the darkness.

Ryou hadn't pursued anymore one-night stands after that, afraid that after his romp with Seto, anything else would just be a sorry disappointment. But when Seto had given Ryou his business card at the hospital, he'd found the CEO's cell number jotted on the back of it, which made him smile. Of course, he'd immediately put it into the contacts in his phone, not taking the risk that he lost the card before he preserved the number.

Now, though, he and Joey were together, and Ryou was surprised to find that not only did he find himself still physically attracted to the CEO, but emotionally attracted to him as well. He was faced with this undeniable truth when he spent one afternoon contemplating his hospital visit and what had induced it. Kaiba had said to call him if he remembered anything. Well, he had remembered more of the incident, so perhaps it was time to finally make that call.

He did so and arranged to meet with Seto at a coffee shop in neutral territory between the apartment he shared with Joey and the KaibaCorp headquarters. It was actually across the street from a park, which was where they'd ended up sharing their coffee, walking along under the trees around midday in the relative quiet. Ryou told him all the new details he could remember of the abduction, Seto jotting them down in a scrawled script that only he could decipher. Then they'd turned the topic to his recovery and how he was doing. He was healing well, thanks for asking, and he and Joey were moving to a new town very soon, mostly to get away from all memories of Bakura. Besides, moving away would make it harder for him to find them. Were they a couple? Seto had been rather blunt in his question, but Ryou actually appreciated the straightforwardness. Yes, they were, they had been for two weeks now. Did he detect a flash of jealousy in Kaiba's eyes and a blush of pink in Kaiba's cheeks? Didn't he seem rather abrupt in his manner of saying goodbye shortly thereafter? Perhaps, but perhaps he was imagining things. After all, he'd wished Ryou all the very best when he'd said goodbye, and he'd sounded truly sincere.

* * *

"How did your meeting with Kaiba go?" Joey asked over dinner that night. They were eating Chinese take-out at the moment, and Ryou was quite pleased to be eating some of his favorite food: teriyaki chicken with white rice. It made him even happier to be sitting with his legs draped across Joey's lap, the two of them cuddling as they watched Jeopardy together.

"It went well. He said that it was really helpful to know that Malik was involved, because he's much more active in the black market and as such it's easier to track his activity," Ryou explained before using his chopsticks to eat another bite of chicken. "That way they may actually have a chance of catching them both and locking them up for good. What a relief _that_ would be." Joey chewed thoughtfully on his chicken lo mein, and Ryou paused in the process of eating to answer one of the Jeopardy questions. "What is Dr. Who!" Of course, he was correct. He knew BBC like the back of his hand.

"I still find it hard to believe that Moneybags is trying to help the police by catching them," he grumbled half-heartedly. "It's just not like him."

"He's changed a lot in the past couple years, Jou," Ryou explained, eyes still glued to the TV. "Who is Winston Churchill!" Again, he was right.

"How do you know?" Joey sounded more curious than anything else, and Ryou fell silent, a blush beginning to stain his cheeks. The commercials came on and Ryou picked up the remote to mute the TV.

"Can I be completely honest with you Joey?" he asked hesitantly, looking up at his boyfriend as he struggled to eat his noodles with a fork.

"Of course you can, Ryou. That's what I always want you to be," Joey answered, starting to feel a little worried that Ryou felt he had to ask that.

"About a month after you took me in, I went to a bar one night while you were at work. I ran into Seto and we had a one-night stand." Ryou tried to keep himself from nervously rushing the words out, but they still sounded a little shaky, a little faster than normal. And, of course, his cheeks were starting to flame with embarrassment.

"Was it good?"

Ryou smiled to himself at the memory. "Heck yeah. But then again, my standards are pretty skewed." After a few moments of silence, Ryou felt the need to elaborate on Kaiba and how he'd changed. "He told me that Mokuba got him going to therapy almost a year ago, and that he's not a huge jerk like he used to be. Of course, I could tell that much pretty easily after just a few minutes at the bar. He has a lot more empathy and a lot less arrogance, and it's really quite impressive."

Joey accepted his words, but found them hard to believe, though he didn't doubt their veracity. "While we're being completely honest with each other, then I have something to tell you." Ryou looked up at Joey, who was himself now blushing. "I've kind of had a crush on him since high school, and I'm not sure that it ever really went away."

"Then, to be honest, I've kind of had a crush on him since that night, and it still hasn't gone away." Both blushing, they looked at each other and laughed. Ryou kissed Joey's cheek and said, "Since we both like him, we have nothing to feel guilty about." Half-joking, he added, "We could even share him if you want."

"Would you want to do that, in all seriousness?" Joey asked, genuinely intrigued by the hypothetical notion.

"I wouldn't object to it at all," Ryou answered honestly before sipping his green tea. "At this point, it's up to Kaiba."

* * *

Kaiba didn't want Ryou and Joey to move away. He wanted them here, where he could keep them safe, so three days later, Kaiba found himself walking from his office to their apartment midday during his lunch break. He would've driven his own car, but he didn't feel safe parking it on the sidewalk while he talked with him inside, and he didn't want to raise suspicion by having Roland drive him there in the limo. So, he was walking. He was fit and a fast walker, and the long legs didn't hurt either. He was almost there when he spotted Ryou walking towards the apartment building. He was about to call out to him when he saw Ryou disappearing into an alleyway as he passed it. Kaiba had seen a large hand grab Ryou's arm as he passed, and Seto broke out into a run.

When he reached the alleyway, he found Ryou in the process of being molested. That set something off in his head, and his vision turned red. The next moment he was aware, it was to find the bastard unconscious on the ground and a shaking Ryou pulling himself away from the graffiti'd brick wall. Seto walked over and wrapped his arms tightly around Ryou, pressing his face into Seto's shoulder.

"You're alright, Ryou, I'm here. You're safe now," he murmured, then kissed the top of his head without thinking. "Come on, let's get you inside." Ryou was shaken up and remained silent as Seto gently led him to his apartment. He was worried about Ryou, even as he felt a little shaken up himself. It had happened again, that strange rage that overtook him on rare occasions, usually when Mokuba was threatened, but now that he loved more people than Mokuba, the likelihood of it occurring had increased. He managed to get Ryou safely into the apartment and seated on his couch with a blanket around his shoulders. Seto put the kettle on for tea, having remembered that Ryou loved the hot beverage.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked as he stood by the couch watching Ryou's face, waiting for the water to come to a boil.

"Yes, yes, I'll be fine," Ryou assured and gave a nervous laugh. Seto remained unconvinced. "It's just been a while since I've been in that kind of situation." He glanced up at Seto to find his expression stormy.

"You should never have become accustomed to that in the first place," he said in a low voice. "Nobody should." _But especially not you,_ he added in his mind.

Ryou just sighed and lay his head back against the couch cushions. Seto let his hand drop down to caress Ryou's hair, and the Brit nuzzled into Seto's hand appreciatively. The whistling tea kettle brought Seto back to his senses, and as he went to pour the hot water into the mug, he mentally reprimanded himself for letting himself get too close. Ryou had a boyfriend. That wasn't okay for him to do. This was a new feeling for him in this stage of life: having something that he wanted right there in front of him and being unable to take possession of it. He wanted Ryou, yes, but there was no right way of going about that right now, which made his own feelings superfluous at the moment. He frowned in frustration. Feelings were so weird.

* * *

"Hey Ryou, how was your day?" Joey asked as he came home in the early evening; he'd adjusted the hours of his work schedule so that his non-working hours overlapped better with Ryou's.

Ryou looked up from the couch, where he was cocooned in a large blanket, and smiled. "Not bad," he answered, his eyes flicking to a spot beyond Joey's shoulder. Joey turned to look and gave a start as he saw Seto Kaiba leaning against his kitchen counter, smirking at how Joey had failed to notice him.

"Kaiba!" Joey exclaimed, hoping that his cheeks didn't look as hot as they felt. "What are you doing here?" He heard Ryou make a sound of disapproval, but the tall brunette didn't seem to mind the blond's initial rudeness.

"I came to tell Ryou that we were closing in on catching Malik. He's escaped to Dubai, a non-extradition country, so we'll have to apprehend him through covert operations rather than an appeal to law enforcement. We think Bakura's there with him, but it's not confirmed just yet." He straightened up. "And with that, I should probably be on my way. Have a good evening you two." He walked out with all the calm of a cool summer breeze, which is why Joey was surprised to catch the sight of a pink stain on his cheeks as he passed Joey to go out the door. Ryou was staring after Seto, his mouth agape. Joey closed the door and locked it, then turned to Ryou with a questioning expression.

"He came by around noon," Ryou began to explain, his expression softening as his brown eyes grew large. "I was just getting back to the apartment from the convenience store when I was assaulted and Seto saved me. He brought me back here and took care of me, said he didn't want to leave me alone after being shaken up by something like that. He's been here all afternoon." As he spoke, Joey came closer to sit next to Ryou on the couch, looking thoughtful—which was strange in and of itself—as he processed this information. "He didn't actually mention that news about Malik until just now. I think he'd forgotten about why he came here in the first place and I forgot to ask."

"You were assaulted? Did you get hurt?" Joey asked, putting a protective arm around his beloved.

"No, no, I'm fine. Seto showed up before he could hurt me." Ryou lay his head against Joey's shoulder, content to snuggle into his warmth. "I think he likes you too, Joey."

"What makes you say that?" Joey asked, unsure of how to handle the strange warmth that bubbled up inside him upon hearing that.

"The way he asked about how you were doing, the way he looked when I talked about you." Ryou giggled. "He was really quite adorable, like a teenager with a crush."

* * *

Seto Kaiba had chickened out. He'd simply been unable to think of a way to tell Ryou not to move away without it sounding unfair and selfish of him. He contemplated the long discussion they'd had that afternoon, how the more he'd wanted to be closer to Ryou, the more he'd tried to distance himself without making it look obvious. He had no idea how well he'd succeeded in doing that, but at least it hadn't gone as badly as it could have gone. He would just need to accept that they were leaving within the week, and then they'd be almost entirely out of his life. He sighed as he paused at a street corner while cars passed. As he waited, he managed to effectively stop a pair of grubby thieves from picking his pockets. They'd never mess with Seto Kaiba ever again.


	5. Happy Lover

In the end, Seto let them move away without complaint. After all, who was he to stop them? Just an old acquaintance, not even properly termed a friend. When they finally caught Malik and Bakura and put them behind bars for good, Seto called Ryou to let him know, though he did his best to be frank with him on the phone. He didn't want to betray his feelings of regret or jealousy, but he asked Ryou if they'd gotten settled in well, just the same.

Just thinking about Ryou and Joey, he felt a twinge deep inside his chest, where the remainder of his heart had been buried. It was clear that they had something special with each other, and he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted Joey's loud-mouthed optimism and Ryou's tender sensitivity. He wanted the blond's lanky body in his arms and the Brit's willowy figure in his bed. He admired and desired them both, though it had taken a painfully long time for him to acknowledge and accept these feelings.

Not that he could ever have done anything about it, and the present moment was no exception. Those two might be together now, but there was no way either of them would want him to intrude. He was too different from them, for one thing. For another, the way Kaiba hadn't cared in the past what people thought of him had made him many enemies. When Mokuba had finally asked Seto to go to therapy, he'd complied—Mokuba was probably the only person in the world who held such power over him—and in doing so discovered that he'd had a superiority complex for a long time. He was past that now, but that meant that suddenly he felt things. Attachments to other people, concerns about their opinion of him, things like that.

Most people didn't see him as being significantly different from who he used to be, though. Maybe Ryou did, since he'd interacted with Seto at the hospital and even before that, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough for him. In a way, he regretted going to therapy and getting "fixed." If normal people felt pain because they cared about other people, then he didn't want to be normal anymore. In retrospect, he preferred not caring. He would still be alone at the top, but at least he wouldn't be lonely. No, the closest companionship he'd ever get from another human being was from Mokuba, and from the Egyptian priest who occasionally visited him in dreams. Too many people hated him for him to stand even half a chance forming a meaningful relationship with any given person.

As the depression set in, Seto stopped seeing his therapist, which was just about the worst thing he could have done. He developed a new problem: rather than being an insomniac as he had been a few short years ago, he found himself retreating into the refuge of sleep far too much. He found that it was much easier to just sleep away his problems so that he could forget about them for a while. When Mokuba left that summer for a two-week long summer camp, he really lost it.

Now that he no longer had to worry about what his brother might see or notice, his bar visits and one-night stands became a little more frequent. And maybe he did visit a few clubs, and maybe a couple of them were a little questionable, but the worst thing this led to was him stay out until four a.m. Friday night and actually let himself rest on a Saturday instead of working.

Having never gone through a genuinely angsty period in his teenage years, the now twenty-year-old CEO was going through a delayed stage of teen angst, and he had no idea how to handle it. He didn't want help; he was sick of talking about his feelings. He didn't really want to meet someone new; the one-night stands only served the purpose of distracting his mind and temporarily sating his body's physical needs. He wanted Ryou and Joey back. He wanted them right here with him, in his arms. He wanted them back so badly it made his chest ache, and that was something new to Seto Kaiba entirely. Never before had his emotions caused him physical pain, and he didn't know how to make it stop. No over-the-counter painkiller seemed to be working, and without any form of outlet, his feelings were eating him alive from the inside out, gradually leaving behind just an empty shell of who he used to be.

He was ashamed that he'd even considered suicide more than once. Life had become so dull and bland for him, so empty and colorless. Nothing was able to cheer him up; the best he got these days was a fleeting distraction from the intense heartache he suffered. It was only the memory of his brother that stopped his thoughts from going very far along that trail. Mokuba still needed him, and it would hurt Mokuba if he were to kill himself. That was the only real reason he ever stopped himself.

When Mokuba got home from camp, he could tell that his brother was a mess. He'd sent his exhausted-looking brother to bed, even though it was only three in the afternoon, and sent for the doctor whose prognosis was Major Depressive Disorder. This was disheartening for the child, who'd truly believed that his older brother's life had been getting better. When the doctor left, he'd crept into Seto's darkened room and joined his brother, who was sprawled out across the covers of his bed in a careless manner. He'd already fallen asleep, two Duel Monsters cards in his hand: the Change of Heart and the Red-Eyes Black Dragon. Mokuba didn't know what it meant, but he removed them from his brother's hand carefully and put them on the nightstand to keep them safe. Then he came and cuddled up to his brother's side, concerned for him.

Perhaps the motion had roused his brother, for a few moments later, Seto was blinking open an eye and peering at his little brother curiously.

"Seto, why are you so sad?" he asked, looking rather sad himself. Seto just sighed and pat his brother's head affectionately.

"You wouldn't understand, Mokuba," he murmured, much to his brother's frustration.

"I could you help you if you'd just talk to me," he insisted, starting to look very stubborn about the matter. "I may not be able to give you any advice, but I'm a good listener, you know that."

"I'm sorry, Mokuba, you're just too young," he sighed.

"Then find someone else you CAN talk to about this, because if you don't talk to someone, then I'll force you to." He hopped off the bed and started to walk away, but Seto's voice stopped him.

"Wait, Mokuba, come back. I missed you." Mokuba complied, returning to snuggle into Seto's side. Seto was relieved that Mokuba had returned to him smiling, after he'd called him. His little brother hadn't given up on him. It was encouraging. Mokuba was the only thing keeping Seto alive at this point, and if he gave up on his older brother, Seto didn't know _what_ he would do.

Perhaps there was a way for this all to have turned out better he wondered as his hazy mind began to retreat back into the sanctuary of sleep, his imagination playing out for him what might have been:

 _Ryou had felt Seto's gaze on his back, and as he started to turn his head to glance at the tall brunette, Seto looked away as quickly as he could. He couldn't hide his thoughts from Ryou, though. He recognized the sad loneliness in Kaiba's distant gaze, being one of the few people in the whole world who would have recognized his expression for what it was. He turned to look at Joey and gave his hand a squeeze, murmuring something low into his ear. Joey nodded and his eyes sought out Kaiba as well, their peer still staring into the distance, pretending not to care._

 _Ryou tugged Joey along as he approached Kaiba with confidence, wrapping his arm around him as Joey did the same, the two of them engulfing the stoic CEO in a warm bear hug. Seto lifted his head, confused, to look into Ryou's chocolate eyes right in front of him._

 _"We're willing to give this a try, if you are," Ryou murmured with a blush, making Seto feel touched. Unsure of what to say, Kaiba wrapped an arm around each slim waist before him, hugging the both of them close._

 _"Thank you," he whispered, voice rich and warm in a way Joey had never heard it before, but had always imagined it could sound. "I promise I'll do right by you, both of you. You won't regret this."_

 _"I know we won't," Ryou murmured sweetly. He had absolute faith in Seto; after the way the billionaire had treated him so tenderly during their one-night stand, he could sense the kind of total rehabilitation that Seto's soul had undergone._

 _"If Ryou says we can trust you, that's good enough for me," Joey said cheerfully, his eyes glinting at Seto with a glimmer of uncertainty all the same. But Seto appreciated the vote of confidence, because he understood too well that he'd given Joey no reason at all to believe that he could be anything more than arrogant and cruel._

 _"Thank you." Seto smiled, kissing Joey's forehead, then Ryou's, his embrace tightening. Love. He could feel its seeds stirring in his heart, and a glimmer of hope shone on the horizon for him. This was how he would redeem himself, he could feel it. He didn't have to feel lonely anymore, he realized as warmth radiated from his chest._

* * *

 _That night, Seto and Ryou reconnected, not to have sex, of course, because Ryou's ribs were still healing, but to talk and establish their relationship with each other in clear terms. They compared scars, which brought them both a little too close to tears, and briefly discussed their trauma over a little wine. Seto couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so soft on the inside, or the last time he'd felt so accepted._

 _Joey still needed time to mentally adjust. This was a lot of change at once, and he wanted to make sure that he was as ready for it as he thought he was. He'd had a crush on Seto back when they were still in high school, which had made their rivalry that much more tense, but he'd gotten over it. Then his father had disappeared and Ryou had entered his life, and he understood what it was like to have a healthy friendship with and affection for the person you loved. Now here Kaiba was, back in his life, supposedly changed, offering him a chance at fulfilling his teenage dream of having a happy relationship with Seto, but this was even better, because they had Ryou too, and Ryou, ever the peacekeeper, would be sure to keep them all together and smooth out any misunderstandings that might occur._

 _Joey and Kaiba spent the following night together while Ryou rested, trying to do all he could to speed the healing of his broken ribs. That night, the two long-standing rivals overcame the mutual animosity that had flowed between them for so long. They also confessed the mutual attraction that they'd felt for as long as they were rivals. Seto humbled himself enough to confess his childhood abuse and show his own scars, feeling gratified when Joey admitted his own abusive past. They were more alike than they'd ever thought. Shirtless, the knelt facing each other, and Seto held up one hand, palm facing out. Joey did the same and their hands pressed together ala Tarzan. Then Seto leaned forward to kiss the spunky blond, and Joey reciprocated eagerly. If someone had told Joey four years ago that he'd be making love with ol' Moneybags one day, he'd have told them to get their heads checked in case their brains had fallen out when they weren't looking._

 _In the afterglow, Seto held Joey gently in his arms, nuzzling against his precious puppy. "Thank you, Joey," he whispered, his voice still a little breathless._

 _"For what?" Joey mumbled, half-asleep._

 _"For everything: for being willing to share Ryou, to love me, to give me a chance. For taking such good care of him when I wasn't there. Thank you." He kissed the spot behind Joey's ear, making his partner shiver._

 _"You're welcome, and thank YOU Seto. You rescued Ryou when I didn't even know where he was, and your love gave him confidence that he never had before. Thank you."_

 _Filled with bliss and gratitude, they drifted off to sleep tangled in each other's limbs._

* * *

 **P.S.** I'm so sorry. I truly did intend for the Teaseshipping to work out, but then I didn't know how to make it happen, so I just went with some classic Seto Kaiba angst to end it all. :( _BUT_ , I did still let you all see what that would have looked like if I had made it work, so I feel less bad about it. But hey, at least I didn't kill off the Kaiba brothers at the end of this story, which I almost did, just to wrap up the story in a nice, neat, severely depressing way...

If you want me to continue, please review this chapter saying so, because unless I get reviews from THREE people saying that they want to see what would happen next, I'm going to focus on my other stories.


	6. Premature Burial

**Author Notes:** Forgive this wretchedly angsty and morbid chapter. This is not how I wanted this story to end.

* * *

Mokuba had gotten Seto to start taking antidepressants as soon as he realized what was wrong with his brother. The medication did its share to help, but Seto still fell into an apathetic malaise out of which Mokuba couldn't jar his brother, no matter how hard he tried.

Mokuba sighed heavily as he sprawled across his brother's lap while Seto slouched on a couch in their massive library, holding a copy of Dante's "Divine Comedy" above his head as he perused _The Inferno._

"I'm going to get a tattoo."

Nothing.

"Would I look good with a nose ring?"

Nothing.

"Seto, you need sex."

 _That_ finally got something out of him.

"What?!"

"You're… lonely and dull and nothing else seems to be helping."

Seto dropped the book to the couch beside him and yanked off his reading glasses to glare down at Mokuba.

"I'm not wrong," Mokuba said as he crossed his arms stubbornly.

"My sex life is none of your business. I can't even believe we're discussing this," he growled.

"It's my business when you're majorly depressed." Mokuba's brow furrowed as a look of concern overcame his expression. "I'm worried about you, Seto. You've taken care of me for years; let me return the favor."

"I don't need to be taken care of," the elder brother insisted stubbornly.

"Yes you do, and you know it," Mokuba replied quietly, his eyes filling with sadness. "But of course you'd never admit it."

Seto gazed down at his younger brother. He was right, but Seto couldn't bring himself to say it. It was unspeakable for him to confess that he needed help; Mokuba had gotten Seto into therapy once in the past, but Seto had taken too many steps back and was now worse off than he had been before, which made him resistant to the idea of trying therapy again. Mokuba's hand came up to touch his brother's cheek, his heart aching.

"It's okay to say it, though. I'm the only one who will hear you." Mokuba felt helpless. How could he make his brother admit that he needed to reach out and get help?

"I… I can't," Seto whispered, a catch in his voice that made Mokuba want to cry. He didn't, though, but simply sat up and kissed his brother's cheek.

"Well, I'm tired, so I'm going to go to bed. You should do the same. Goodnight, Seto."

"Goodnight, Mokuba."

"Seto?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

That was the last time they ever saw each other.

* * *

The moment Yugi and Yami found out that Mokuba had died in a car accident on his way to school, they knew they needed to talk to Seto and make sure that he was alright. Mokuba was the only family that Seto had, the only thing that had kept him going through the orphanage and the years he spent under Gozaburo's tyranny. They knew Seto would be devastated, that he would keep silent unless someone talked to him about it, and that it would destroy him from the inside out.

They tried calling. They called so many times with no success. He wasn't answering his cell phone, his home phone, or his office phone. The next day, they finally went and visited him at the KaibaCorp Headquarters. On their way there, Yugi got a call from Roland.

"Mr. Moto, sir. If it's not an inconvenience to you, could you please come to Mr. Kaiba's office right away?"

"Why do you ask, has something happened to him?" Yugi glanced over at Yami, who was driving, unable to keep the fear from his voice.

"Not yet. He's on the roof and told me not to let anybody else up, but I don't believe that to be a wise decision. He just lost his brother, and he's been acting strangely since then. I don't trust his judgment at this time, and I couldn't think of anybody else to call."

"We're already on our way, Roland," Yugi assured. "We'll be there in a matter of minutes."

"Thank you, sir."

Yugi hung up and looked at Yami with tears in his eyes.

"That was Roland: he called to ask if we could come talk to Seto. He said he's been acting strangely and that he's on the roof. He told Roland not to let anybody disturb him."

"That's bad news." Yami pressed his foot hard on the acceleration pedal. "That's very, _very_ bad news."

They didn't talk at all for the remainder of the drive. They remained silent until they emerged on the roof together and saw Seto sitting on the edge, his back to them as he fiddled with something in front of him.

"Seto," Yami called in his deeper voice. The young CEO turned to look over his shoulder, Yugi noticing that his eyes were bloodshot and his face drawn. He groaned in frustration as he turned to face forward again.

"Don't do this to me, Yugi," he growled. "You know I never understood the ancient spirit thing very well." The mere presence of both Yami and Yugi in the same place gave Seto a head-ache as he struggled to understand it. It was one thing to think of Ryou and Bakura as twins, with Bakura as the evil one, of course. He'd never had to see them both in the same place at the same time.

"Get away from the edge, Seto," Yugi called, fighting tears. "Please. We _care_ about you. We want you here. Just… give us a chance to figure this out."

Seto laughed heartlessly, sending a chill down both their spines. He stood up on the edge, putting his hands down on the ledge as he lifted his legs, revealing to them both that he was holding a gun. He turned and faced them, looking rumpled and exhausted, as if he hadn't changed his clothes since yesterday.

"I don't need to jump," he said pointedly.

"Put the gun down," Yami said firmly. "Get off the edge and come over here. Like Yugi said, we'll figure this out."

"What is there to figure out? Mokuba's dead. There's no changing that."

"But you don't have to die too," Yugi said, tearing up. "Please, don't do this to us."

"Do what to whom?" Seto responded disdainfully. "Nobody cares anymore if I die. Mokuba was the only one who ever cared."

"Do you really believe that?" Yugi asked, shocked and upset. Yami snaked an arm around Yugi's shoulders to comfort him. Seto looked down as he slowly loaded the gun.

"'My mind, in scornful temper thinking to escape scorn by death, made me unjust toward my just self. By the strange roots of this tree I swear to you, that I never broke faith unto my lord who was so worthy of honor.'"(1) He started to lift the gun, but Yugi rushed forward, unable to watch it any longer. He grabbed Seto by the front of his shirt and hauled him forward, the two of them crashing onto the roof as the gun went off, the bullet flying harmlessly into the sky.

Seto rolled off of Yugi and lay there as Yami rushed forward and helped Yugi up. When he turned back to Seto, he'd draped his arm over his eyes, the gun still lying on the cement as a tear trickled down the side of his face.

"He was… he was the only one who cared…" he choked out, starting to sob.

"Seto, that was never true," Yugi murmured, pulling Seto into his arms as he and Yami embraced Kaiba. They cried, all of them. They cried for Mokuba and for Seto until they'd cried themselves out.

"Come on, let's get you home," Yami said at last, handing his handkerchief to Yugi, who had already handed his own to Seto.

* * *

Roland escorted them to the Kaiba mansion, which turned out to be totally trashed. Apparently, that's how Seto had spent his night: getting drunk while destroying any room in the mansion that upset him, all long after he'd dismissed the staff until further notice. Certain rooms in particular were untouched: Mokuba's room, Seto's room, the library. Some rooms were trashed more than others, particularly one room that was also covered in dust, as if it'd been locked up for years.

Since he was still hungover and miserable, Yami put Seto to bed while Yugi hunted around for the kitchen. When he found it, he put the kettle on for tea and tried his hand at finding something ready to eat. The kitchen was a professional one, which made it harder to navigate.

He eventually gave up and brought the tea tray to Seto's room, where Yami was watching over a sleeping Seto.

"I got him to take some sleeping pills," Yami whispered, leading Yugi back out of the room to find somewhere they could sit down and have tea. "He should sleep for the next several hours." They found a parlor rather quickly and sat down together on the couch, the tea tray on the coffee table.

"Did he say anything else before he fell asleep?" Yugi asked, sipping the chamomile tea he'd brewed.

"He told me that he stopped taking his antidepressants as soon as he got the news," Yami said sadly, putting an arm around his boyfriend who snuggled up against the former pharaoh.

"He was on antidepressants? So he was already depressed before… the accident, and losing Mokuba just… pushed him over the edge." He sighed and Yami kissed his forehead.

"Don't worry; we'll take care of him. I promise you that he won't die."

"I-I just can't believe he tried to kill himself," Yugi whispered in shock. "I knew Mokuba's death would make him upset, but I didn't know he was depressed. If I'd known, I would have reached out to him. I would've done something…" He turned his face into Yami's chest as he started to cry.

"Sh, it's not your fault," Yami whispered, rubbing Yugi's back reassuringly. "We didn't know, and there was no way for us to know. His company has been as successful as ever. There was nothing to hint to us that something was wrong."

"Maybe if we'd talked to him or something…"

"You know that he's not very communicative. It would have been difficult trying to start a decent conversation with him over the phone or anywhere else."

"He has so much to live for…"

"He doesn't see it that way, so we need to make him see that truth."

"Do you think we can?"

"I know we can." Yami kissed Yugi tenderly, still trying to comfort him. "We'll help him in every way we can, no matter what it takes."

* * *

When Seto awoke, he felt incredibly groggy. He checked his watch and saw that he'd only slept for four hours. The sedatives were still in his system, so why was he awake? Was he really that stubborn that he couldn't even stay asleep when he was this exhausted? His mind was still clouded with the drugs, and his thoughts were unclear, but he could still remember what had happened.

Mokuba was dead. That was all he needed to know to lose his will to live, but wait, there's more. He was utterly alone in this world, and while he'd learned to love, it had only caused him pain, because who on earth could love him? _Him?_

He pulled himself into a sitting position, even though his body didn't seem to want to move. He stumbled towards his bathroom and stopped in front of the sink to splash some cold water on his face—as if that could make any difference to anything. As he dried his face with a towel, something caught his eye: his antidepressants. He'd started taking them because Mokuba had recognized the signs of his depression. He'd stopped taking them when Mokuba died, but maybe it was time to start again…

An hour later, he was stumbling along the hallways, his vision going fuzzy and grey. He'd taken the antidepressants. All of them. He was running out of time, but that was okay. It was what he wanted. Yet, he so strongly wished that he could have seen Ryou and Joey one last time. He was glad to die, because life was too miserable, but he wished that he didn't have so many regrets.

He lost his balance and fell to his knees, then slumped to the floor, burying his face in his arms as he felt his consciousness start to slip away. Yami and Yugi found him mere minutes later, while he was still barely holding onto consciousness. They panicked. They shouted his name, they rolled him onto his back, they called the doctors. They did everything right, but it was already too late. He was fading fast, and nothing could save him at this point. As he closed his eyes, he finally let go of his tentative hold on life, wishing that things could have gone differently.

* * *

When Seto opened his eyes again, it was to be greeted with bright fluorescent light that made him wince. He screwed his eyes shut again, his head already throbbing with pain. Where was he? As he tried to get his bearings and blink his vision clear, he felt a hand slip into his and give it a small squeeze.

"Hey man, it's good to see ya' again."

That voice. He knew that voice. He'd never heard it sound so gentle before.

"Ryou did promise your brother that you'd wake up. I'm glad we won't have ta tell 'im otherwise."

Seto finally forced his eyes fully open. Everything was a blur at first, but as his eyes adjusted, a grinning blond came into focus at his bed side.

"Joey…?" He was surprised by how weak his own voice sounded. The other smiled even more broadly to hear Seto call him by his first name.

"The one and only!" He smiled warmly at Seto, who now noticed that Ryou had fallen asleep in another visitor's chair. He was in the hospital. He hated hospitals. Ever since his mother's death, he'd always hated hospitals. And why was Joey so friggin' happy? He looked like he'd just won the lottery or something, when in fact, Seto had just tried—and failed, apparently—to kill himself. Did he not understand that? Why was he even here?

"Mokuba was really worried about you. We all were," Joey admitted, giving Seto's limp hand another squeeze.

"Mokuba?" he repeated, shocked. Mokuba was dead, and Joey and Ryou had moved away. Nothing was making any sense to him right now.

"Yeah, he's been worried sick, poor kid," Joey continued. "He asked us to—"

"Seto!" There was Mokuba, just entering the room with Roland behind him and a bright look in his grey eyes. He dashed towards his brother, jumping up onto the bed so that he could hug him properly. He couldn't help that he started to cry, overcome with relief as he saw that his brother was still alive.

Seto's reaction was entirely identical for the same reason. He didn't know how or why, but Mokuba was alive and well, and that was enough to make him cry.

Joey was touched by the sight of the two brothers tearfully embracing. He never thought he'd get a chance to see Seto Kaiba cry.

"I'm so confused," Seto whispered at last once Mokuba had laid down at his brother's side, curled against him as he comforted himself with the notion that this wasn't a repeat of last time. Last time, Seto had been catatonic for months and months. This time, though…

"What happened?"

"You were hit by a car soon after you left our apartment," Joey answered patiently. "You've been in a coma for the past three weeks."

* * *

 **P.S.** And it was all a dream~! XD I know, I know, it's super "deus ex machina" of me to do that, but I'm glad to have come up with a way for Seto to not actually die.

(1) A quote from The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri, Book 1 "The Inferno," Canto 13, which describes the forest of the suicides, in the second ring of the seventh circle of hell. This quote is Seto's way of saying that he always did his best for Mokuba, always tried to protect him, and that he'd rather die than live without him.


	7. Swords of Revealing Light

Seto was to learn that Joey had truly sugarcoated the situation. His skull had fractured when it hit the pavement and he'd suffered permanent brain damage. The doctors had said that his prognosis wasn't good, that he probably wouldn't wake up at all, if he even lived for very long. Joey had, apparently, gone after Seto minutes after leaving their apartment because he'd forgotten his handkerchief and wished to return it to him before they moved. As such, Joey had been the one that saw the accident, if from a distance.

He'd been the one to call 911, then use Seto's cell to call Roland and make sure that Mokuba was informed of the situation and told which hospital his brother would be at. Then he'd summoned Ryou to join him as they waited for the ambulance. He'd needed an emergency blood-transfusion, and while Ryou and Joey were both willing to donate their own, neither were compatible, since Seto's blood-type was A, Ryou's was AB, and Joey's was B. Mokuba, blood-type O, had given his blood to his brother without any qualms or hesitations, and his brother's friends had done their best to help him through it.

"He's done so much for me," Mokuba had said, a look of quiet determination transforming his young features until he looked very much like his brother. "This is the least I can do in return."

Doctors had even advised him to pull the plug on Seto when they warned him of the extensive brain damage he'd suffered, but he'd refused so vehemently that they never broached the subject again. Roland made sure that KaibaCorp was still running smoothly and in good hands, despite Seto's absence. Mokuba was still vice president of the company, however, so he would pick out the most important and pressing issues and present only them to the youngster, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Ryou was impressed with Mokuba's resilience. He'd been worried and upset at first, which was only natural, but he'd pulled himself together remarkably quickly, repeating to everyone around him and anyone who would ask that yes, his brother _would_ wake up, he _would_ get better. If he let himself doubt that for one moment, then all was lost.

Mokuba had asked Ryou and Joey to stay with him until Seto woke up, and they'd readily agreed. Now that Seto was awake and they got a chance to see his brain damage in action, he asked them to stay for at least the next six weeks, which was how long the doctor had said it would take for him to heal fully and reach some kind of "normal" state. In truth, Seto would never be normal again. If the circumstances weren't so awful, Joey would've made a joke about how Seto was so naturally above average that he would just be learning what it was like to be average like everybody else.

Seto's memory was one recurring challenge they faced as they tried to help him recover. It was incomplete at best and incorrect at worst, but it always depended on the day. His critical thinking capacities were greatly reduced at first, and his social skills needed work. He was absent-minded, constantly muttering to himself, sleeping at the strangest of hours, and incredibly paranoid about his brother's safety. Some nights he spent in full wakefulness, wandering the halls of the mansion and the acres of his property, keeping out anybody who might hurt Mokuba, so he claimed. The days that Mokuba didn't have school, he spent their entirety with Seto, leading him by the hand around the mansion and reiterating memories and events for him, ever so patiently working to restore his recollection of his own life. The two of them would walk and talk together for hours, Mokuba doing most of the talking, but Seto was always listening as best as he possibly could.

Whenever Mokuba was at school, Ryou and Joey were with Seto, almost never leaving him completely alone. They'd learned very quickly that it just wasn't a safe thing to do. The few times they'd left him alone for more than ten minutes at a time within the first few days, they'd always found him in a state of silent fascination with dangerous objects: once it was the kitchen knives, staring at them as he ran his fingertip along the sharp edge, as if daring the knife to cut him; once he'd broken into the medicine cabinet in the medical ward of his home, rummaging among dozens of bottles of prescription pills as if he were looking for something particular; once he'd been holding a lighter in his hand, just staring at the flame.

His mood swings were probably the worst thing, though. Sometimes he seemed so happy, as if he'd forgotten everything that was wrong with his life, as if he had hope. It was nice to see him like that, even though it was incredibly weird. Sometimes, he was deeply depressed, and nothing any of them said or did could get him to speak. Sometimes he got incredibly frustrated and angry, breaking out into fits of temper that were so unlike his former self it disturbed Mokuba a little bit. They were mostly born from his frustration with himself and his inability to regain his memories fully and recover the skills he'd once had. Computer coding had become second-nature to him at some point, and now there was so much of it that he couldn't remember, it drove him nuts. He would try to sit down in his office and resume his old work, but within fifteen minutes or so, he would get so frustrated he'd turn violent, and they'd have to calm him down and get him out of there. On a few rare occasions, they found him simply catatonic, just as he'd been after Yugi's mind crush. The first time Mokuba found him like that, he'd freaked out, afraid that he was going to lose his brother again just like last time.

That was actually the symptom that had driven them back to the doctors with their concerns. They did more x-rays (to check how the bones were healing) and CT scans and fMRIs to refresh their knowledge of what was happening inside his mind and his brain.

They came to the conclusion that the brain damage had induced schizophrenia, which made his dopamine levels go haywire. Apparently . When they were too high, he'd be careless, high energy, happy-go-lucky, and go for long periods without sleep. When his dopamine levels were too low, he would be depressed, sleep excessively, and even go through short stages of catatonia. Along with these symptoms, he was also experiencing paranoia, suicidal ideation, and auditory hallucinations. They prescribed him antipsychotics, which made a big difference. Things started to even out for him after that; the mood swings disappeared, as did his pursuit of dangerous objects. He stopped muttering to himself, and his sleeping hours even became slightly less irregular. His temper cooled, and the temper tantrums ceased. His memory recall was improving over time, and while his memory still had holes that they had yet to fill, he was able to retain the new information they gave him, and some of his former knowledge of certain events was coming back. Even with so much improvement, he was far from being fully restored to his former self. There was so much damage that just couldn't be undone.

Three weeks into his recovery, and he was still having trouble separating his coma-dream from reality. Sometimes he would slip into Mokuba's room at night and cuddle with his little brother, just to reassure himself that he was still there. Mokuba wasn't about to start complaining about this; he loved receiving this much active, present attention from his older brother, who'd done most of his caring from a distance as he got older, although he did hate the circumstances which had induced it.

One cloudy day, Joey was walking with Seto around the property while Ryou helped Mokuba with his homework. Since Seto was quiet, Joey talked, trying to maintain a friendly connection between them.

"So, what did you dream about while you were comatose?" he asked carefully. Seto still hadn't told them anything about it.

"Who said that I dreamed at all?" Seto retorted evasively.

"Well, the doctors said that you were, based on your brain activity, and the confusion you had upon waking up seemed to hint at it too. I'm no genius, but I have a pretty good feeling that you did dream while you were out." He received no answer for a few moments, so he asked, "What did you dream about?"

"In my dream," Seto answered slowly. "I didn't get hit by a car, I just went home. Things continued pretty normally for a while: you and Ryou moved out of town, I kept running my company, Mokuba kept going to school. Life felt real. I never would have guessed that I was in a dream."

"Was that all you dreamed about?"

"No." He was conveniently excluding the way he'd pined for Ryou and Joey after they moved, the way he'd subsequently become depressed to the point of needing medication.

"What else happened in your dream?"

He hesitated, then said, "After a while… Mokuba was in a car accident."

"Was he alright?"

Seto shook his head, staring down at the grass as they continued to walk.

"What was wrong?" Joey had a feeling that Seto's reticence hid something unpleasant.

"He… didn't make it."

"That must have been awful to think that your brother died." It certainly wasn't one of Joey's most tactful sentences.

"It was."

"What happened after that?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Seto grumbled.

"Are you sure?"

"I said, I don't want to talk about it!" Seto was raising his voice, starting to get upset. The last thing he wanted to tell Joey was that he'd tried repeatedly to kill himself in his coma dream. He was too ashamed to own up to it. He didn't want anybody to know.

"Okay, okay," Joey said soothingly, trying to calm Seto down. They all did their best to keep him from getting too upset by anything. "We can just talk about something else then, alright?"

Seto grunted noncommittally, still a little tense, but looking like he was starting to relax.

"Do you remember when you flew your helicopter to Duelist Kingdom, and you and I dueled with the Duel Disk prototypes?"

"Yeah. Beating you was easier than finding Kuriboh in a booster pack."

Joey chuckled at that. "I've gotten a lot better since then, though," Joey said with a wink. "Maybe we should duel again and see if that's still the case."

"No." Seto shook his head immediately.

"Why not?" Joey asked. He knew by now that to get Seto to explain himself was difficult, but it always helped. Seto was silent for a few minutes as he struggled to find the words he needed and Joey just waited for him to speak. They were walking close enough that their hands brushed together, prompting Seto to hold Joey's hand in his own. Joey was touched, but this wasn't the first time this had happened. It had happened with Ryou too, and it gave them hope that one day, when he was fully recovered, they could love him as they loved each other. They hoped that he loved them both as much he loved them.

"What if I can't?" Seto sounded scared, and it tugged at Joey's heartstrings.

"What if you can't _what_?" Joey asked calmly. "Can't beat me?"

"What if I can't duel?"

"How could that be? You still remember what all the cards do, don't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"What are the stats for the Blue-Eyes White Dragon?"

"Attack 3000, Defense 2500. Uses white lightning attack. Polymerization can combine three of them into a Blue-Eyes Ultimate Dragon, which attacks with Neutron Blast."

"See?" Joey smiled at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "You have nothing to worry about.

"What if I can't remember all of my strategies, though? Strategy is more important than individual cards."

"Do you remember how you used the Crush Card Virus against Yugi in Duelist Kingdom?"

"Yes, I infected Saggi the Dark Clown with the virus so that when Yugi destroyed it, the virus infected his deck."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." Joey smiled at him, but Seto was starting to get upset.

"You don't understand," he insisted, pulling Joey to a halt. "Strategy is so much more than knowing how to use a couple cards, it's knowing _every_ possible effective combination of cards that exists in your deck so that you can use it at a moment's notice. It's—"

"Hey," Joey said softly, lifting his hand to Seto's cheek, trying to calm him down. "I have faith in you. So does Ryou, and so does Mokuba. Even if you can't duel today like you used to, we believe that you'll get back to that point again. We believe in you."

His earnest voice was warm and sweet, his big brown eyes looking for all the world like the eyes of a puppy. In that moment, Seto couldn't think. He couldn't have stopped himself from kissing Joey even if he'd bothered to try.

Joey was surprised, to say the least. He was also deeply pleased. He closed his eyes and leaned into it, reciprocating. That little bit of encouragement was enough to pull Seto into something deeper. Even though they were both obviously enjoying it, Seto pulled away moments later, looking startled.

He freed his hand from Joey's as he stammered, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

Joey reached out to him, but Seto turned and dashed away. Joey broke into a run as he tried to follow him, calling out his name, but Seto ignored him, running faster and disappearing into the wooded thickets that bordered his property.

Joey searched for him for quite some time, terrified of what might happen to Seto while he was on his own. He felt guilty for not being more careful, but then again, there had been no way for him to anticipate that he might run off. He thought about that while he searched, calling Seto's name.

Why had he run? Did he regret kissing Joey? Was he ashamed? Or was it that he had feelings for someone else, and had only kissed Joey on impulse? Maybe he didn't have feelings for Joey, but was just lonely and desperate? Or maybe he didn't even know himself what he felt, and that scared him, so he ran away.

A couple of hours after the kiss, Joey finally admitted defeat. He'd screwed up, and he couldn't fix this on his own. He called Ryou and told him, in short, what had happened.

"Did this happen just now? Where are you? We can send some people out there now to keep him from getting too far."

"Uh, no, it happened… two hours ago," Joey confessed, physically bracing himself for Ryou's reprimand.

"Joey!" he exclaimed, louder, than the blond had expected. "Why did you wait so long, he could be anywhere by now!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Joey apologized frantically. "I thought I could find him on my own before things got this bad." He raked a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. "I don't know where he went, I was hoping that he'd gone back to the mansion. Can you please ask around and make sure that he's not there before we launch a search party to find him?"

"I'll do more than that: I'll tell Roland to have the staff alerted that he's missing. If he's gone for much longer, he'll miss the time that he needs to take his medicine, and he might start hallucinating or—well, anything could happen!" Ryou's voice shook with concern.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure we'll find him." It was all Joey could think to say to calm Ryou down. "I just wish I knew why he ran off…"

"Probably because he knows that you and I are in a relationship, and he thinks that he just damaged that with his actions," Ryou retorted, as if it should have been obvious to him. "He probably felt guilty—not only because we're his friends and we've been helping him recover, but because he does, as I suspect, have feelings for us. I mean, why would he kiss you if he didn't feel something? And why would he have spent so long with me the day of the accident if he didn't feel something?" Ryou sighed heavily, just as Joey had. "When we find him, we're going to have a discussion with him about this. I have to go talk to Roland and let Mokuba know what's happened. Get back here as soon as you can, okay?"

"Okay. Again, Ryou, I'm _really_ sorry."

"You _will_ be if something happens to him or if he does anything stupid." Ryou hung up, and Joey could feel that he was in a heap of trouble.

* * *

Mokuba was tense, pensive as they drove into Domino. Joey was shame-faced. Ryou was… contemplative.

"According to the security guards at KaibaCorp, he hasn't attempted to enter the building," Roland announced, hanging up his phone. "They haven't seen him at all since the day of the accident."

"Where else could he be going?" Ryou asked, looking to Mokuba.

"How do we know that he's going anywhere?" Joey asked in despair. "He could be wandering around downtown for all we know."

"Think about it, though: Seto always acts purposefully, with intention. He has a destination in mind. Otherwise, he would've gone back to the mansion. Speaking of which, Roland, the staff know to call us if he shows up at home, right?"

"Yes, sir, they know."

"Good. Mokuba, what were you and Seto talking about this morning at breakfast?"

"Childhood mostly," Mokuba answered quietly. "I tried to see if he could remember anything about our parents, but he couldn't. Those memories were always vague at the best of times anyways. I helped him fill in the holes when it came to our experiences at the orphanage."

"Where was the orphanage?" Ryou asked.

"I-It's not there anymore," Mokuba said, looking startled. "I checked a year or so ago. The building was old and it was condemned, so the orphanage had to move. The building was scheduled to be demolished."

"Where else might he go?"

"Our first day at the orphanage, he walked me to the bridge and we talked." Mokuba looked uncomfortable for a few moments. "It was the first time he told me that we had to be tough."

"Where was the bridge?" Ryou asked, determined to try everything possible to find him.

"What are the odds of us finding him there?" Joey asked dubiously.

"It can't hurt to check," Ryou snapped back.

* * *

It _had_ been a long-shot, but they _did_ find Seto at the bridge. He was right at the edge, his expression strange, his posture tense, his hands in his pockets as he stared out over the water.

"Seto!" Mokuba called as he hopped out of the limo, but his brother didn't seem to hear him.

Instead his hands moved to grip the railing, and he lifted one foot onto the lowest rung. Mokuba stopped dead in his tracks, several feet away from his brother.

"Seto?" Shock and confusion overcame the child, and Joey lay a hand on his small shoulder to comfort him.

"Don't worry pal, everything's going to be alright. We'll get your brother back safe and sound," Joey murmured as Ryou approached the brunette gingerly.

"Seto, it's me, Ryou," he said, standing at Seto's side.

"Ryou…" Seto repeated, blinking with a confusion of his own as he stared out over the water.

"What are you doing, Seto?" he asked gently, trying to sound casual.

"He has Mokuba," Seto whispered, his eyes wide with horror as they focused on an image visible to him alone.

"Who has Mokuba?" Ryou asked.

"Gozaburo."

"Oh…" A little pained sound escaped Mokuba's throat at the sound of their stepfather's name, and Joey put his other hand on Mokuba's other shoulder, trying to comfort him wordlessly. "Why can't you just let him go?" Mokuba whispered faintly, staring at his brother in anguish.

"He has Mokuba, and he'll hurt him if I don't do as he says," Seto continued.

"Does he hurt you?" Ryou asked softly. He was starting to put something together in his mind, a way to get Seto to come with them without a struggle.

"Yes," Seto answered, a little hoarsely, and Mokuba's hands moved to his shoulders, seeking out Joey's hands so that he could hold them as he sought reassurance.

"And you let him, to keep something worse from happening, right?' Ryou asked quietly, trying to save Mokuba from this conversation.

"Yes." Seto's voice wavered. "Because it would be worse if Mokuba got hurt instead of me."

"I know how you feel, Seto," Ryou murmured, letting his hand rest on top of Seto's hand where it gripped the railing. "I know how you feel because the same thing happened to me. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I'm free now. I'm free thanks to you. And I've returned the favor, see? I got Mokuba away from Gozaburo. He's here with us right now." He managed to pull Seto's hand and foot off the railing as he carefully turned him and pointed towards his brother, holding his hand warmly, hoping that they could break through to him.

Mokuba smiled up at his brother, doing his best not to cry, staying strong for his sake. Seto blinked, as if he couldn't process what he was saying.

"Gozaburo says that it's a trick," he mumbled, looking at Ryou suspiciously.

"Is he saying that to you right now?" Ryou was trying to pin down exactly what Seto was perceiving that the others weren't so that he could address the problem directly.

"Yes, I can hear him," was Seto's sad answer.

"Seto, I hear voices in my head too sometimes," Ryou said tenderly, taking both of Seto's hands in his own as the other looked confusedly at him. "They threaten me too. They scare me sometimes, but you know what?"

"What?"

"Those voices are always lying. I know from experience." Ryou wasn't schizophrenic, he never had been, but he'd had Yami Bakura for long enough that he could empathize with what Seto was going through in this moment. "He might be telling you to hurt yourself so that he won't hurt those around you, but he has no power at all, just the power you give him when you fear him." Seto's face scrunched up as he tried to understand. "Gozaburo doesn't have your brother. He's right here, and we're going to take you home now."

"Home…" Seto softened, relaxing a little, and Ryou began to lead him to the limo. Seto complied without resistance, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

That night after dinner, when Seto had taken his medication, Mokuba and Seto had a long talk about how Seto wasn't allowed to run away ever again, and if he did, Mokuba would do whatever it took to prevent that from happening, even if it meant embedding a microchip under Seto's skin so that they could always know where he was at all times. Seto, nerdy as he was, expressed interest in getting it anyways, but Mokuba said that it was supposed to be a last resort, a punishment, not a reward. When they finally came to an agreement, Seto went to his room to sleep, only to find a pair of visitors waiting to speak with him.

"Can I help you?" he asked, looking from Joey to Ryou and back again.

"No, but we can help you," Ryou answered as he slid off the bed and approached Seto, Joey following suit. They flanked Seto, each holding a hand of his, and he quickly began to feel nervous.

"What are you doing?" he asked, cheeks flushed. Then something surprising happened: they kissed his cheeks together, at the same moment. He turned absolutely red, swallowing hard.

"We love you, Seto," Ryou whispered, his eyes bright. "Both of us do. We'll stay here for you as long as you want us to."

"Can you stay forever?" Seto asked impulsively, making both of his peers smile.

"Yeah, I think we can manage that," Joey answered with a grin, giving Seto's hand a big squeeze. Seto looked back and forth between the two of them, his eyes starting to water, then he put an arm around each of them and pulled them into a close embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered, unable to hold back the tears. "Thank you so much, I—I love you too." He sobbed once, a heavy teardrop splattering onto the top of Ryou's head. "I love both of you. I wanted to ask you to stay. That's why I went to your apartment that day," he confessed, no longer in control of his words. "I wanted to ask you to stay, but I thought it was too selfish of me, so I never asked. But I wanted to."

He sniffled again, and while Joey felt guilty that they'd made him cry, he wasn't about to tell him to stop talking. This was stuff he needed to get off of his chest.

"I wanted to, but I said nothing, and you moved away, and then Mokuba died, and I didn't know what to do."

Ryou looked up sharply, then over at Joey, who mouthed to him, "Coma dream."

"Without Mokuba, I had nothing, and I tried to kill myself, but Yugi and Yami stopped me. They took me home, thinking they could fix things, but they couldn't bring him back to life. He was the only one who truly cared about me, whether I lived or died—"

"Never say that again, Seto Kaiba, do you hear me?" Ryou snapped, his own cheeks covered with tears even as Seto continued to weep. " _We_ care, we will always care, and we'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

Seto nuzzled his head between both of theirs, overwhelmed with emotion in a strange way that he hadn't felt before. All he could do was thank them repeatedly and reiterate that he loved them both dearly.

* * *

 **Author Notes:** And that concludes this horribly convoluted story that focused on Ryou for the first three chapters and Seto for the last four chapters, even though the whole story was supposed to be about Ryou. _PLEASE_ leave me a review! What did you like? What didn't you like? Would you like me to write more Fragileshipping stuff? More Teaseshipping? Anything?

 **P.S.** One last bonus scene is on its way in the epilogue, so stay tuned!


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